Bias and Bitching
by BarbaraChilde
Summary: AU modern fic with beaches, bitching and bogans. M for bad language, bad attitudes and shagging at some point.
1. Chapter 1

_**Modern AU fic with beaches, bitching and bogans. If you've never come across a bogan, either find yourself an Aussie to explain them to you or look it up on Urban dictionary.**_

_**This fic is my first foray into this fandom, though I've been a Lizzie and Darcy fan since I first read P and P in high school. The plot has been brewing for a long time. I'm in two minds as to whether I bring Darcy's perspective into the story, so if you kindly feel like reviewing , I'd love to know your opinion on this. It is M rated, as everything I write tends to be, so consider yourself forewarned.**_

It was commonly acknowledged that the Margaret river pro tour event coincided with an increase of scantily-clad young, and sometimes not so young, girls cavorting on the the southern beaches of Western Australia. The knowledge that Chuck Bingley was competing increased this number thrice fold. The Bennet family was in no way immune to this phenomena, the younger members of the household anyway. Lydia had been particularly exasperating. She paraded around in her bikini, striking provocative poses until even Kitty was ready to throttle her.

Lizzie rolled her eyes at her youngest sister strutting around the kitchen, gloating over her latest acquisition. "I wouldn't call it a bargain, Lydia, there's barely 10cm of fabric in the whole thing. It's obscene and you wouldn't catch me dead in it, even if I was still 16."

Lydia picked up the long sleeve of Lizzie's dress. "You may as well have been dead when you were 16, for all the fun you had. And I wouldn't be caught dead in this caftan, or whatever it is you call it. You could upholster a couch in it. "

Lizzie's printed cotton dress was chosen more for it's power to conceal rather than it's ability to flatter. Not because she was ashamed of her body. Indeed, the tiny bikini on Lydia's slender teenage figure was outrageously revealing but on Lizzie's own curves it would have been x-rated. Her desire to cover up had more to do with having skin so fair that she reckoned could probably get sunburnt in the rain. "Fine, don't listen to me. If Dad see you, he'll never let you leave the house anyway."

Lydia poked out her tongue. As if on cue, Frank Bennet entered the room, his genial expression changing to one of horror. "Lydia Frances Bennet, you are not leaving the house in that get up. It's indecent. Go put some clothes on."

"But Dad, don't be so mean! How can it be indecent when Mum bought it for me?"

"Lydia, your mother..."

"Mr Bennett, what about her mother?" Priscilla Bennet trotted into the room only to witness Lydia's outraged, head tossing exit. She always 'Mr Bennett'ed her husband if she was worked up in defence of her daughters, usually Lydia. "I think Lydia looks lovely. I bought her those bathers in the hope that at least one of our girls would land a boyfriend this summer. It's not right that they're all single. All five of them, Frank!"

Frank Bennett was a simple man, more at home with his livestock and tractor than dealing with female wiles, despite sharing his house with 6 of them. "Our daughters are fine as they are, Pris. And I don't think we need the kind of lads those togs are going to attract."

"If only Lizzie would wear the ones I bought her, I'm sure she would get more attention. She's 23 years old, Frank, and she's never even gone out with a boy! If only she'd keep her mouth shut and show a bit of skin, like I tell her."

Lizzie turned the corners of her mouth down in an attempt to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst from her mouth. She had indeed been out with boys but had yet to find one she would introduce to her mother. Not because she was worried they wouldn't like her, Lizzie hadn't cared enough for any of them to worry about that. It was more that her mother would like them too well, and then Lizzie would never be rid of him.

"I like my Lizzie exactly the way she is." Frank Bennet's voice was gruff with affection and Lizzie crinkled her eyes back him.

She stood up from the kitchen table and smoothed the creases from her dress. "It's a non argument, Mum, if I wore that I'd likely blind half the people in the whole region with the uncanny glare coming off my skin."

Her dad laughed but Priscilla made an exaggerated huff, her voice growing more shrill. "That's bull! Nothing a fake tan wouldn't cover up, but Lizzie won't even consider it."

Frank choked on his tea and set his mug down on the bench. "You know best, darl. If those togs catch our Lydia a bloke that can help with the harvest then they would have done me a good turn. As it is, I have to get back to work. Have a good time at the party, Lizzie. If you have a few to many, I can pick you up after dinner and you can get your car tomorrow."

"Ta, Dad, but I don't think I'll be getting drunk tonight. I want to get back and get some more writing done on my thesis. I'm only going because I promised Jane."

Priscilla snapped a tea towel at her daughter. "You should have a few drinks and meet a nice boy. Might even get lucky enough to find another reason to leave your car there overnight."

"Mum, I refuse to listen to you telling me how to pick up men. I'm going, I have to meet Jane early." Lizzie followed her father to the door, calling up the stairs as she passed them. "Lydia! Kitty! If you're not ready to go in 5 minutes I'm going to leave you behind. Bye, Mum."

She wandered outside into the hot autumn day toward the detached humpy that she shared with her sister, Jane. It had a self contained kitchen and they were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased, though that was no privilege their younger sisters missed out on, to use or abuse as they pleased day or night, despite their residence in the main house.

Lizzie's beach-bag hung inside the door, and she checked that it held her bathers and sunscreen. A quick glance in the mirror to smooth her curly locks, a straw hat and her large sunglasses were all that were required to complete her outfit. She walked back outside to find Lydia and Kitty already squabbling to who got to sit in the front seat of Lizzie's old Holden.

The beach party was being held at Grace town beach, which was only a 15 minute drive from their farm in Cowaramup. It wasn't the kind of event Lizzie would normally attend, preferring a laid back barbecue over all night full moon parties. Jane's involvement in it's planning however meant that it was a must attend. Besides that, between her sister's current round the clock work in event management and Lizzie's constant visits to Perth to see her thesis advisor, they hadn't spent much time together in weeks.

Jane was all smiles when she greeted her sisters in the carpark. She gripped Lizzie in a fierce hug and then kissed the two younger girls on their respective cheeks. Her long tanned legs were bared in black fitted shorts and even her shapeless event staff shirt managed to flatter her. With her sun bleached blonde ponytail, she was the ultimate beach babe. And the complete opposite of Lizzy. So much so, that they both teased their mother that she had filled up her lonely hours on their farm in Cowaramup by entertaining the post man.

Lizzie's curly dark mid length hair was more inclined to kink than fall in artlessly tousled waves. And no matter how she had tried to sunbathe in her youth her skin had burnt and peeled leaving her, if at all possible, paler than before. All that would remain from her attempts would be yet more loathsome freckles. She had long become wiser and now covered herself with 50+ sunscreen before she would even look outside to see what the weather was like. Through vigilance she had reduced the number of freckles on her face, except for the few scattered across her nose that infuriatingly refused to budge.

"Lizzie, I have a pass for you to the VIP tent." Jane removed one of the lanyards from the stack she held but Kitty thrust out her hand before Lizzie could take it.

"Where's mine? I know you've got more."

Jane withdrew the pass from her reach. "Kitty, you should stay with Lydia. We can't have a repeat of last year."

"But I'm 18 now so Lizzie can keep Lydia company, she's not drinking anyway."

"But...Lizzie will need the shade if it gets to hot."

Kitty's voice huffed from her lips. "That's not fair, you can't waste it on her like that!"

Lydia joined the argument. "And it's not fair if Kitty gets to go in and I don't."

Kitty swung around to their youngest sister, leaning into hre face to speak. "Yes it is, I'm 18 and at least I've never been arrested before."

Lizzie grabbed Lydia's arm before she could physically respond. It wouldn't been a first for a simple argument between the two of them to degenerate into violence, public event or not. "It's ok, Jane. I have my hat and I feel like swimming anyway. Keep the pass."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Between you and Mary, I'm not sure who is the most lame Bennet sister. Whatever." She turned back to Jane. "Have any pro tour surfers arrived yet?"

Jane shook her head. "No, I'm waiting here so Mr Lucas and I can direct them to the tents and facilities."

Lydia removed her tank top, revealing the tiny bikini atop her almost non existant denim cut offs. "Good, I'll wait with you."

Lizzy pulled her sun hat further over her eyes. "That's hardly appropriate, Lydia. Jane's actually at work if you hadn't noticed. Go and stand with the rest of the pro-ho's, if you want to look like a slut."

Lydia snorted. "Don't be stupid, Lizzie, you know Emma and I are fighting. Besides, Jane doesn't care."

Jane bit her lip but before she could disagree with her youngest sister, two large black 4wd's swung into the car park. The dark tinted windows hid the occupants but Lizzie instincts told her that Charles Bingley and his entourage had arrived. Her guess was confirmed as the tall blonde surfer emerged from the first car and smiled at the hushed crowd of bikini clad admirers.

Charlie Bingley was known as the nicest guy on the circuit, his easy charm and superb surfing winning him friends and sponsors alike. Lizzie had seen pictures of him but he was even better looking in real life than he was in a Billabong surf wear advertisement. If you went for that sort of thing. The classic bleached surfer look was pretty common amongst the local male population but none of them had anything like Bingley's apparent charm. Lizzie thought he smiled too much though. The man standing next to him was far more her type, with his dark curls and brooding looks. But in stark contrast to his friend, he didn't smile at all, looking grimly instead at the assembled crowd.

Lizzie nudged Jane. "I believe the main attraction has arrived. Lydia will start her mating calls any moment now."

Jane nodded distractedly. "He is good looking."

"Even you, my darling Jane, starstruck?"

Jane tossed her head. "He just looks nice, that's all."

Lizzie nodded. "That he does. It's amazing, given the sour expressions on the company around him. Must be an effort to keep up."

"Lizzie! Don't be so nasty. They're probably overwhelmed by the crowd. Everyone seems to want a piece of him."

"Including you, Janey." It was true though. The crowd had surged around the pro surfer and his entourage. Even Bingley's genuine smile began to grow a little fixed when Mr Lucas started tugging at his arm to get his attention.

Mr Lucas, or Luko as he was more commonly known, had been surfing the local breaks for more than 5 decades. He invariably felt it was his responsibility to take the pro tour surfing contingency under his wing, whenever there was a tournament. Lydia had moved nearer to the new arrivals, thrusting out her immature chest in a manner than made Lizzie groan. Before she could slip off and leave Jane to her business, she heard Mr Lucas call her name. "Lizzie! Jane! Come here girls, I must introduce you to Chuckie, no Charlie wasn't it? These are three of the Bennet sisters. Jane helped me organise this event. She's my number one, I couldn't have done it without her." His fatuous smile beamed over all of them. Lizzie met Jane's eyes in shared amusement, knowing that her sister singlehandedly organised all the social events connected with Western Australian leg of the tour, in spite of the old surfers interference.

Charles put his hand out to Jane. "Hi, I'm Charles, but my friends call me Charlie. Sorry, I didn't catch which sister you were. Jane, was it?"

Jane smiled flushingly as she took his hand in hers. "Yes, I'm Jane." She swallowed and Lizzie already recognised the symptoms of a crush taking hold as she stammered over her next words. "... And this is L...Lizzie and Lydia is my youngest sister."

Chuck returned the smile, his eyes barely following Jane's fluttering gesture before they strayed back to her face. He seemed to have it as bad as her. "Really pleased to meet you all. Darcy had said the southwest of WA was beautiful, but really, it's just taking my breath away. Um, the scenery I mean!" He finally let go of her hand and turned toward the rest of the people in his party. "Uh, this is Will Darcy and my sisters, Caroline and Louisa and...um, my manager, Fred Hurst, and..." His voice trailed to a halt as he looked helplessly at the remaining people beside him before turning back to smile at Jane again. "Um...I'm thirsty, do you think you might be able to show me where I could find a drink, Jane?"

Jane's smile went from half watt to full brilliance in seconds, dazzling the already stunned Bingley even more, if it were possible. "Of course, Charlie, it's this way."

Bingley followed in Jane's wake though the crowd leaving a wary Lizzie and a sulky Lydia standing uncomfortably before the silent group. Mr Lucas's eyebrows raised suggestively. "Perhaps, Lizzie, you could take Darcy here to find a drink and show him around a bit too, huh?"

Darcy spoke before Lizzie could respond, his deep voice cold. "Thanks, but it's unnecessary, I don't want anything."

He turned away from the group to survey the ocean, thrusting his hands into his pockets. Charles' sister Caroline gave them the once over and then leaned up to whisper something in Darcy's ear, causing his handsome profile to twist into a sneer. Lizzie felt her own lip curl up in a way that surely couldn't resemble anything friendly. "Mr Luko, is Charlotte here yet?"

The old man waved his hands towards the marquees set up below the carpark. "She around down there somewhere. Tell her to get a wriggle on with those sample gift bags."

Lizzie gave him a curt nod and turned away without acknowledging the rest of the group. She pulled her sun hat down further over her eyes, seething over the dismissive behaviour of Bingley's friends. William Darcy and his winery, Pemberley Estate, had been the subject of an article she had recently read, close in topic to some of the themes of her dissertation in viticulture. She had even planned to visit Denmark to tour his vineyards to see some of the new technology he had introduced. Now she had met him, that was a pleasure she could gladly postpone.

Her thoughts subsided as she heard Charlotte call her name and Lizzie forgot her irritation in the pleasure of catching up with her oldest friend. She had been too long away in Perth, distracted by the deadlines of her university coursework and it was nice to just loosen up and enjoy herself for a while.

The faint sea breeze had done little to cool the soaring temperature and Lizzie was sweltering in her long sleeves. She extracted a promise from Charlotte to meet her by the water and went to change into her bathers.

She paused in the changing room to replenish her sunscreen, slathering it thickly over her skin before going back outside, blinking to let her eyes readjust to the brightness. Charlie Bingley stood not far from her poking a body lying prone on a towel with his foot. The faint sea breeze made the man's words entirely audible. "Darcy, you can lie on the beach anytime and we came out to have some fun. Get up and join me!"

Lizzie couldn't hear Darcy's response, if there was one.

"Darce, you're at a party. Don't be lame. The water's beautiful and so are the girls."

His voice was pitched lower than Charlie's and was hard to hear over the music and the waves but Lizzie caught his last words as he finally lifted his head. "...And you've nailed the only babe here."

"She's an angel, isn't she? And she surfs too, and she's working at the tournament so I'm guaranteed to see her again." Charlie looked around. "But her sisters are smoking hot as well."

"The jail bait or the hippie?"

"The younger girls are certainly...enthusiastic, but Lizzie seemed nice."

Darcy sniggered. "Bing, you barely looked at her. Go tune your blonde and leave me to fend for myself. I don't want your seconds. I mean you saw the hat her sister wore? Eccentric isn't exactly my type."

Lizzie had heard enough. Eavesdropping on the conversation had made her feel akin to leftover meat on the barbecue. Chauvinist pigs. At least Darcy was in any case. Charlie seemed to somehow deflect the attitude of his friend, otherwise she'd be warning Jane well away.

Lizzie stalked past them, refusing to divert her route to the water to avoid the two men but refused to raise her head to acknowledge them. Charlotte was laying her beach towel down near the shoreline and waved her over.

"Who's the guy with Bingley?"

"William Darcy, the biggest wanker in the southwest. Probably the state."

"Well, he was just checking you out."

"I sincerely doubt that, Lottie. He basically just called me a hippie weirdo."

"Well, he's mistaken. You're a hipster weirdo and he was definitely looking at your arse."

"You're the hipster weirdo. What are those glasses? They're the same size as your face and clearly they don't even work."

"They can clearly see he's hot."

"He is that, but why does he always look like someone just farted?"

Charlotte giggled into her beer and looked over the sand to where Darcy now stood with Charlie, Caroline and Jane. Bingley's sister had draped her arm over his shoulder, but Darcy looked more inclined to shrug her off than draw her closer. "He does look uptight. I mean seriously, does he carry his surfboards up his arse?"

Lizzie burst into laughter. "Yes, and why is his girlfriend wearing a gold bikini? I mean she's dressed like she should be on a cruise, not for an afternoon in Gracetown!"

"Anyway, who gives a shit what he thinks. Or says for that matter. Just enjoy his pretty face."

"Only if he stays mute. Every time he opens his mouth he gets a little less good looking."

Lizzie spread her towel in the shade underneath the beach umbrella Charlotte had nabbed. Her blue polka dot two piece was nowhere near as provocative as Lydia's bikini but it still exposed a lot of Lizzy's pale skin. Finally she dropped her sunglasses and hat to the sand and ran down to the water where Charlotte was already swimming out. The swell wasn't very big though Lizzie had to dive under a few larger waves to get out to the deeper calm water. Despite her aversion to the sun, Lizzie loved the beach and was a strong swimmer, though she rarely had the time to surf as much as she had before. Usually Charlotte and Lizzie would would while away the time on the pontoon that characterised Gracetown's beach, but the shrieking girls that now covered it made her lengthen her stroke to reach her friend who floated lazily in the deep water beyond it.

Lizzie looked at the crowd on the beach as she tread water, the small figures discernible despite the distance. Jane was talking to Chuck, her smiles easy to make out. Caroline was now draped over her towel, fanning herself with a magazine. The dark haired figure next to her stood up and walked toward the water leaving the young woman to flop disconsolately back on the sand, all her assumed poise gone.

Darcy walked to the water's edge and peered at the waves. He was too far away for Lizzie to see his expression clearly but the furrowed line of his brow made a dark crease across his face. Too well pleased with himself to find himself worthy of such a modest affair, Lizzie thought. She would've given anything to wipe that look off his face. What she had said to Charlotte wasn't true though. If anything he got better looking the more she saw him. As she watched he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing a chest bronzed by the sun and honed by hours on the ocean. Lizzie knew she was perving but it was hard to tear her eyes away. Or it was until a wave swamped her head and she went under, swallowing a lungful.

Lizzie came up gasping and swam over to take hold of the pontoon to catch her breath. She would have cursed but the hair in her mouth made her choke. Darcy had walked further into the water; the bay didn't feel big enough for the both of them. She mentally willed him away but he refused to retreat, standing waist deep in the waves and staring out to the horizon instead. Of course he just happened to place himself directly in front of Charlotte and Lizzie's umbrella. She hardly felt like swimming up the beach and then walking back down in order to avoid him. But the sun was already starting to feel a little too warm against her skin and she knew it was time to find some shade.

All the way to the shore Lizzie thought she could feel Darcy's disapproving eyes burning into her but she averted her head, not letting herself return his gaze. When she finally reached the sand and turned back, to ostensibly wave at Charlotte, he was looking out to sea. She must have been mistaken.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for the follows, favs and reviews!**_

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><p>Lizzie dressed with a little more effort for the party at the Lucas property than she had for the one a week before at the beach, albeit entirely due to Jane's influence. She had been happily attired in jeans and a t-shirt when her sister dragged her back to the mirror. "You can't wear that, Lizzie."<p>

"What do you mean? I wear this all the time."

"Exactly. You have to wear something more...more dressy."

Lizzie surveyed Jane's flirty little skirt and strappy sandals. "I see. I'm not allowed to wear this or you'll feel overdressed."

"Come on, Lizzie, please."

Jane batted her long eyelashes, using what Lizzie liked to call her lost puppy face. She was always helpless against this particular weapon of her older sister's. "Ok, ok, I'll change, just stop looking at me like that, damn you. But only one thing. Your choice." She did an exaggerated twirl while Jane critically assessed the tight black jeans, striped shirt and flats she wore. "And I need to wax my legs so you better take that into consideration."

Jane made a face at Lizzie's words. Her sister was always perfectly groomed, despite the fact that her fine blonde body hair was barely noticeable. "Well, there goes my first option but I'm not put off that easily." She looked speculatively at Lizzie before disappearing into her well organised half of their wardrobe to rummage for a minute. Her smile was triumphant when she emerged, a loosely woven knit top hanging like a scrap from her hands.

"Pink? Jane, you know I never wear pink."

"Just try it on."

Lizzie groaned and shrugged off her t-shirt, ungraciously snatching the offered garment from her sister. It slipped over her head easily, the silky jersey clinging to her full chest and draping in a deep V down her back. Jane looked at her approvingly. "There. It suits you far better than it does me. I wish I had boobs like yours."

"You got everything else, Janey." Lizzie had to admit that her sister's choice was more flattering than she thought it would be. The reflection in the mirror showed her that the rosy pink of the fabric matched the blush on her pale cheeks and bought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes. "Even your taste is better than mine."

"I don't know about your first statement but the last one I agree with entirely. So you should wear these as well." Jane giggled while thrusting a pair of high heeled pumps toward her sister.

Lizzie put her hands up in defence. "I draw the line there. If I have to stagger around the garden at the Lucas's in those, I promise you it won't be pretty."

Jane considered the stilettos for a moment before dropping them onto the bed. "Charlie is picking us up in ten minutes and you haven't even put your makeup on." She peered more closely at her sister. "Not that you need it."

"That's enough from you. Go finish getting ready. I'm not the one trying to make our mother proud by bringing home a catch like Bingley."

"He's not a fish, Lizzie, and I haven't even kissed him."

"Only from sheer lack of opportunity." Jane disappeared into the bathroom while Lizzie checked herself over in the dressing table mirror. It had surprised her that Jane hadn't found the opportunity to snog Bingley yet, even though she had seen him several times during the week before. From the late night conversations she shared with her sister, it sounded as though he was always surrounded by his entourage when she had seen him at the pro tour events and Lizzie knew that Jane was quite shyly reserved with her affections around other people. The only time they had spent alone together was for an early morning surf and the large swell that day had hardly made the water a conducive place for romance.

Despite Jane's declaration that Lizzie didn't need makeup, she applied a lick of mascara and a touch of blush. She left it at that though, merely going on to braid her hair back from her face to keep it out of her eyes. When car lights pulled into the driveway, Lizzie was glad she'd kept it simple. Any interruption to her cosmetic operations usually culminated in an epic fail. "Jane, Bingley's here."

Jane's worried face appeared from behind the bathroom door. "Do I look alright?"

"Janey, you look lovely. It's impossible for you to look any other way, even if you were wearing a sack. Over your head." Lizzie picked up their bags and passed Jane her's. "Now out with you."

The way Charlie greeted Jane, Lizzie may as well have been a shrub in the garden, not that she minded that in the least. The car was empty of any other company and she sat alone in the back seat as Bingley drove them, feeling relief that she didn't have to try and make conversation with either his sisters or his friend.

The party looked to be a fairly casual affair, no matter how Mr Lucas had attempted to dress the family homestead up. The house itself was a beautiful example of the colonial style but the haphazard balloons and streamers on the wide verandah did it little justice. Drooping fairy lights twinkled erratically in the trees that lined the driveway. It looked like any of the back yard parties Lizzie had attended, despite Mr Lucas's boasting at them that it was tour season's most elite gathering.

He and his wife greeted guests at the entrance but Mr Lucas abandoned his post at Bingley's arrival and escorted him and his companions to the back garden. A crowd had already gathered around the bonfire that he had built from the previous years vineyard prunings, as well as any other random thing he deemed burnable and there was a small stage set up on the other side of the garden where a band were tuning their instruments.

Mr Lucas insisted on showing Bingley the features of his small holding. The young man was doing an excellent job of hiding his disinterest behind a polite smile, encouraging Mr Lucas toward greater descriptive heights. Jane, having been integral to the planning of the food for the event, slipped away to check that the hired staff were completing it to her specifications. Lizzie followed the two men briefly, feeling a compunction to try and protect Bingley from the often inappropriate Mr Lucas but on the arrival of his friend, Darcy, and his sisters, escaped on the pretext of finding Charlotte.

She was by the bar, the first place Lizzie thought to look for her. Charlotte grinned as she came towards her, passing her a brimming glass of wine. "Thank god for your sister, Lizzie, the kitchen was turning into a shit fight before she arrived and started sorting it out. I got out of there as soon as I could."

Lizzie's friend was very adept at assisting her father on their small vineyard but her capabilities deserted her once inside the house. But by the rate the pulled pork rolls and kimchi hotdogs disappeared from the trays that started emerging from the kitchen, Jane's catering was a triumph, despite some of the older attendants of the party flicking out the cabbage into the garden beds and demanding to know what was wrong with lettuce.

Lizzy and Charlotte giggled at their palpable outrage but noted between themselves that they still hovered around the waitstaff, cutting out everyone else in their haste to get to the food. The two girls only just managed to secure themselves a plate to share, retreating to a secluded spot at the back of the garden.

Charlotte wiped her mouth and chucked her used napkin onto the table. "Jane's food is sublime. She'll certainly find her way into Bingley's heart through his stomach, if no way else."

Lizzie had finished her own food and was happily nursing her glass of white. "Talk sense, Lottie. Jane doesn't need to cook to keep him interested."

"She's barely emerged from the kitchen. It doesn't exactly make her look like she's hanging out for his company."

"Who's fault is that? You're the one who abandoned her there."

"It's not like she can't leave the staff to it now that they know what they're doing."

Lizzie knew Charlotte had a point but her sister was incapable of ignoring an appeal for help. But she had no doubt that Bingley was counting the minutes til she was free. "She just wants it to be perfect. You should be grateful."

"Why should I care?"

"It's your party. Besides, Jane hates PDA's."

"Lizzie, if Jane want to lock down a man with that kind of profile, she should show she's into him and make sure every other girl around here knows he's taken. She should be all over him."

"Charlotte Lucas! You sound exactly like my mother. Jane has never been 'all over' anyone."

"Well, look at Emma Phillips sleazing onto him? Your sister needs to be a bit more agressive and get these other girls to piss off."

"You do know who we're talking about don't you? Jane doesn't have an aggressive bone in her body. Besides, when would she ever need one when it came to the opposite sex? Boys've been chasing her since kindergarten." Despite her confident words Lizzie looked suspiciously back at where Bingley and Darcy stood in their audience of sycophants. Emma was being obviously provocative but Bingley looked more irritated than interested. As she watched, Darcy looked up towards them and Lizzie caught his eyes. She dropped her own in a rush. "Smells of desperation to me. But come on, Charlotte, get real. You'd never try those tactics with a guy. I reckon that the pro-ho's are more likely to drive Bingley straight into Jane's arms, than steal him from her."

Charlotte raised her eyebrow. "Yeah, you say that, but you don't think with your dick."

Lizzie snuck another look at Bingley and his friends. He was ignoring the discontent girl beside him, his attention arrested by something across the lawn. Lizzie followed his gaze and saw that Jane had finally taken off her apron and was walking toward her. She waved at Lizzie and smiled, quickening her step but Bingley reached her before she could join them. The smile she turned to him with was sweeter than the one she had just directed at Lizzie. It seemed impossible that Charlotte couldn't see that Jane's look at the surfer expressed a genuine, if slightly overwhelmed attraction and by the admiration in Bingley's return gaze, he felt it too.

Lizzie turned back to Charlotte, triumphantly ready to point this out but her friend had moved away toward the stage. "The band's starting. Let's find a good spot."

Whatever Mr Lucas's failings were as a decorator, he had a fairly astute interest in music. He always managed to book one of the good local or interstate bands that toured the region during the pro tour events. How he got them play at his private functions was somewhat of a mystery but Lizzie never questioned his tactics when it allowed her to enjoy a gig away from the usual rowdy watering holes that populated the townsites. She followed Charlotte to the front of the stage and danced the whole set. It had been an age since she'd let loose on a dance floor and by the end of the encore she was sweating and smiling and gasping for a drink.

She clapped her hands one last time and turned to talk to Charlotte but instead of her friend, she found herself grinning up at William Darcy. His lips twitched up as her own fell and she cut her exuberant words off short. "...Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"You evidently enjoyed the band."

"Yes." Lizzie lifted her chin. "What wasn't there to like?"

Darcy considered the stage where the roadies were starting to pack up. "Well, the mix was pretty shit, the vocals clipped on the high notes. And two broken guitar strings is just unprofessional. But they were tight, I guess."

Lizzie blinked at the faint praise he offered. She wasn't sure why she felt like she had to defend the band, the sound had been crap, though that had probably more to do with Mr Lucas's cannibalised PA system and ancient sound desk than any fault of the musicians. She sucked in her breath. "I see what your game is. By telling me that I obviously liked the gig and then pointing out all the defects, I'm supposed to feel embarrassed by my poor taste. But your plan failed, I'm not embarrassed at all."

"Why should you be? They weren't bad, otherwise I wouldn't have watched them."

"I suppose, coming from the man who doesn't find anything good enough, 'not bad' is glowing praise indeed."

He tilted his head questioningly at her. "I don't know what makes you think that about me. You don't know me well enough to comment on my opinions."

Lizzie laughed. "Oh, I take people at face value. First impressions never lie, do they? Please feel free to judge my character as well. Oh wait, you already have."

"What? I'm not judging you because you liked the band." He shook his head. "I'm going to the bar, can I get you anything? You must be thirsty from dancing like that."

Lizzie wanted to ask him what he meant by the 'like that' but held her tongue. She looked over his shoulder instead and to her relief spotted Charlotte. "No, thanks. Excuse me."

Charlotte had bought over fresh drinks, which Lizzie gratefully quenched her thirst with but she could barely concentrate a word her friend was saying. Darcy, damn him, was still staring after her. She pulled Charlotte away from the speakers that had started blasting out the Beach Boys, cutting her off in the middle of a sentence. "Have I got something on my face?"

"No, you look gorgeous. Why?"

"Mr 'holier than thou' Darcy won't stop looking at me. I'm positive he's trying to intimidate me."

"Where is he?" Charlotte turned around, blatantly peering through her glasses around the crowded lawn.

"Right behind you. Do you have to be so obvious?" Lizzie grabbed her friends arm to draw her attention back to herself so they weren't both staring at the tall man.

"I don't think those are intimidation tactics, Lizzie." Charlotte giggled back over her shoulder again. "It looks like he wants to jump your bones."

"Enough, Charlotte." Lizzie bodily pulled her out of Darcy's line of sight. "Your radar, as always, is completely off." She let herself take one final glance at him, this time his attention was focussed on the simpering form of Caroline who had stepped up to his side. "Trust me, the man is probably just trying to work out what he likes the least about me. He even disapproves of the way I dance."

Charlotte laughed. "Don't be so quick to write him off, Lizzie. God knows there's few enough guys around here who are interested in more than their surfboard, bong and play station."

"Hmmm, give me that any day over a man who's head is so firmly shoved up his own arse he can see out his mouth."

"I'm used to you hating people, Lizzie, but not usually this ferociously. What'd he say to you?

Lizzie frowned and drained her wine glass. "Nothing much, there's just something about the man that makes my skin crawl. I'm going over there." She pointed to the other side of the garden at a table that held some of their mutual friends. "I'm sick of the bloody sight of him."

By the time it struck midnight, the tone of the gathering had definitely lowered to something debauched and Lizzie was contemplating her options of escape. Jane had left with Bingley an hour before but before Lizzie had insisted she didn't mind staying over with Charlotte. She had half expected to anyway, though she'd really prefer to go home. The party was ripe to go for hours yet and Charlotte' room was by no means soundproof. The wine Lizzie had drunk had begun to make her sleepy and she yawned as she tried to spot her friend. It wasn't Charlotte's head she found though, rather her youngest sister's, sucking face with a unknown shaggy haired guy who was clearly more than a few years older than her. "Lydia! What the hell are you doing here?"

Lydia staggered a little as Lizzie grabbed her shoulder to pull her from the fervent embrace. "Jesus, Lizzie, do you have to be such a spoilsport?"

The guy tried to tug Lydia back into his arms. "Yeah, don't be such a downer, babe."

"Fuck off, dickhead. Did she tell you she was only 16?"

The guy smirked. "I've had younger."

"Yeah? Well, if you don't fuck off, I'll tell that to my mate over there who's brother's a cop. That's statuary rape, you arsehole."

He let go of Lydia and took a couple of steps back, stumbling over the border of the garden. "Listen, you crazy bitch, you can't pin that shit on me. I'm fucking out of here."

Lydia leaned closer toward Lizzie's face, enveloping her in a sickening haze of bourbon. "Lizzie, now look what you've done! He was gonna take me backstage at the next heats!"

"So he could pass you round like the local bike? You better watch it, Lydia, or you're going to end up in so much trouble you don't want to even know. How'd you get here anyway?"

"I came with Kelly."

"Do her parents know you came?"

"Yep. They dropped us off."

Lizzie knew the defensive look her sister gave her invariably signalled a lie. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Great, I'm calling them. You find Kelly."

"She's already gone home. Her brother rang her parents to pick her up when he found her here."

"What are they doing leaving you here? They better come and pick you up too or Dad'll rip them a new arsehole." She started searching for the number but before she could find it, Lydia snatched phone from her hands, her drunken squeal rising above the beat of the music.

"Don't embarrass me like that. Lizzie!"

Lizzie grabbed the phone back out of her sister's slack grip. "They don't know you're here as well, do they? What is it, you just thought you'd just pass out some bush or pick the closest random sleaze to go home with?"

Lydia teetered on her high heels as she stepped back from Lizzie. "I hadn't thought that far. You're not going to dob on me to Dad are you?"

"Look at yourself, you're off your face. I won't even need to tell him, he'll know the second he sees you when he comes to pick us up."

"Lizzie, no! The pro tour just started and you know he won't let me out of the house again til Mum makes him change his mind. That might be ages!"

"I only hope he makes you stay home for good."

"Please, Lizzie, I'll do the dishes for a week, I'll do your washing. Anything! Don't tell him."

"Jesus, Lydia!" Lizzie didn't want to tell her father anymore than her sister did. Lydia's behaviour would blacken his mood so he became monosyllabic for days. Then her mother would think he was being rude to her and start a brawl. A one sided brawl anyway; Frank never raised his voice unless it was to call for the dog. Priscilla would shriek enough for the both of them though. It was a pattern Lizzie had seen over and over again. She gave a deep sigh. "Ok, you can stay with Charlotte and me but you're the one who has to come up with something to tell Dad when we get home tomorrow."

Lydia grinned. "That I can do. Thanks, Lizzie, you're my favourite sister after Jane. And Kitty."

Lizzie shook her head in in half amazed resignation. "Look, you sit there and don't try anything. I'm going to find Charlotte and then you and I both going to bed."

Lydia sat down with a mulish expression, looking ready to give her sister a retort but the sharp glance Lizzie gave her kept her silent. She was doubtful her sister would stay put in her absence but knew the threat of telling their father would keep her from straying far. The party showed no signs of Charlotte. It had been several hours since Lizzie had seen her anywhere around the garden so she went inside to check if she'd retired to her bedroom.

Indeed she had. With unexpected and, for Lizzie at least, unwelcome company. Lizzie hadn't taken two steps into the room before she realised the grunting coming the bed wasn't her friend snoring. She retreated in haste hoping the rhythmic thud of the bed was enough to cover the sound of the door creaking shut behind her.

Despite her promise to Lydia, it seemed that calling their father to pick them up might be the only option. She made her way back to her sister, declining a drunken invitation to join a drinking game or to dance to the Guns and Roses now cranking from the stereo. Lydia had sagged in her chair looking like she was ready to pass out and Lizzie shook her arm to get her attention. "Lyddy, I'm going to see if I can get a lift from someone, otherwise I'm going to have to call Dad."

Her sister blearily lifted her head. "Uh, Lizzie."

"Now what?"

"I don't feel so well. I think I'm gonna chuck."

"Jesus, Lydia. I've nearly had enough of this." Nonetheless, Lizzie helped her sister to her feet to direct her to a convenient garden bed but, before they had taken two steps, Lydia choked and then vomited all over Lizzie's shoes.

And of course at exactly that moment, William Darcy decided to materialise, a look of distaste on his handsome features. Caroline and Augusta stood behind him, looking equally disgusted. "Are you both ok? Your sister looks pretty drunk."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"How old is she anyway?"

"Too young for you."

Darcy recoiled in horror as Lizzie struggled to get Lydia back to her chair. He had disappeared when she glanced up again, but not for long, returning with a cup of water.

Lizzie wanted to tell the lot of them to fuck off but took the cup from him sullenly, using it to rinse her shoes rather than giving it to Lydia to drink. Her sister had stopped heaving so Lizzie collared her and dragged her stumbling form away from the the garden toward the car park.

She was about to call her father when she realised Darcy was still with them. Bingley's sister's at least had seen enough and not followed them too. "The show's over. Why are you still here?"

"Can give you both a lift home? I'm leaving anyway. Just let me get Caroline and Louisa."

Lizzie lack of options almost tempted her to accept his offer but the thought of sharing Lydia's disgraceful state further with Bingley's sisters was too much. She shoved her phone back in her pocket. "No, we plan to walk."

Darcy looked incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous. Cowaramup's 20km's away. And your sister clearly couldn't walk 5 metres."

"It's 25km away actually, but I would walk twice as far before getting in your car." Lizzie turned her back on him and walked away, pulling Lydia behind her, before Darcy could respond. It felt so satisfying she couldn't help the swagger that entered her stride. When she reached the road she retrieved her phone to call her father but an old station wagon pulled up beside them. Denny Nichols poked his head out of the open window of the car and yelled over the blaring Anthrax on the stereo. "Going our way, ladies?"

Lizzie lowered her head to look doubtfully inside the car at the occupants. "You're not drunk are you?"

Denny looked around at his companions. "I can't speak for Pratty or Wickham here, but I'm sober as a judge. Mum'd have my balls if I get caught DD again."

Denny lived only a couple of kilometres from the Bennet farm. Despite the fact that he was closer to her age, he was more likely to be found in Lydia and Kitty's circles. "Well then, a lift would be awesome." Lizzie opened the door to get into the back seat. "Shit, Denny, it's a rubbish tip in here. Where are we supposed to sit?"

"Calm down, Bennet." Denny reached over the bench seat of the car and used his arm to sweep a pile of old iced coffee cartoons and pie wrappers off the back seat. "Shove over, George." He said to the man lolling across the length of the car.

Lizzie eyed the seat cover, trying to work out if the filth that remained was tomato sauce or something worse. "Gee thanks, Denny, you sure know how to treat a girl." Her tone was more acerbic than Denny probably deserved but she was still smarting from humiliation. The man in the back seat spread a towel that had also seen better days over the seat and Lizzie smiled her thanks before gingerly climbing into the car, pulling Lydia in behind her. "It stinks like dog and bong water in here."

Denny raised his eyebrows with a look of irritation. "Jeez princess, do you want a lift or not?"

She glanced back toward the Lucas house. Darcy's car hadn't started yet so she had thought at first that he must have gone back to the party but he still stood there, his figure half shadowed under the white gums that protected the Lucas house. "Sorry, Den, I'm being precious. Just get us the fuck out of here."

The man sharing the back seat with them smiled. "Hi, I'm George."

"I'm Lizzie."

He gave Lydia a questioning look. "Is she ok?"

George had a very engaging face and Lizzie decided it was typical that she would meet a cute guy just when she happened to have vomit in her shoes. "She will be, though I hope she has the mother of all hangovers tomorrow morning." Lydia dropped her head on Lizzie's shoulder and started to softly snore. "Thank god you guys turned up when you did, I had no idea how we were going to get home."

"Who was that you were talking to back there?"

Lizzie groaned. "William Darcy, though I wouldn't call it talking, more like actively trying to avoid."

The smile faded slowly from George's lips. "Darcy, eh? I had heard he was around, but I haven't yet had the dubious pleasure of running into him."

Lizzie was too irritable to soften her words, even though she didn't know anything of George Wickham at all. "There's nothing dubious about it. William Darcy is a creep."

The man looked at her speculatively, as if unsure how to respond to such vehemence. Lizzie thought his reticence did him credit, but felt inclined to reassure him that she would be happy to engage in a good Darcy bagging session. He shook his head though, the smile creeping back into his eyes. "Surely we've got better things to talk about than Darcy."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry for the gap in posting. A short trip to the east coast of Oz (hello Bris Vegas readers, your city is awesome and northern NSW is not unlike our south coast but it's far more mountainous and spectacular over there than here. I'll still argue our beaches are better though!) and crazy busy work catch ups meant no time for writing. Re the swearing, Aussies tend to swear a lot (in the southwest anyway), but I will try and keep Lizzie's foul mouth only for times it's strictly necessary. Thanks for the feedback, follows and favs :)_**

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><p>Lizzie was absorbed on a sunny Sunday afternoon in an article that related to her thesis chapter on organic practices in viticulture, when Jane burst into their room waving her phone before her. "Lizzie! Help me, Caroline and Augusta have invited me around for a picnic."<p>

Lizzie put down her iPad and blinked solemnly at Jane. "And so?"

"It's tonight! And I don't know if I'm expected to dress up."

Lizzie looked at Jane's simple skirt and blouse. "You look fine as you are."

Jane rolled her eyes dramatically. "Of course you'd say that."

"Jane, it's a picnic. I doubt they'll insist on black tie. Charlie won't care what you wear."

"But that's just it. I don't even know if Charlie's going to be there."

"Then his sisters invited you because they want to see you, not what you're wearing." Lizzie found it difficult to disguise the slight choke on her words. She had little doubt that anything a Bennet sister wore would attract some form of censure from the members of the Bingley clan, with an exception granted for Charlie. Lizzie doubted that he noticed anything but Jane's face when he was in her presence.

"You could come too, Lizzie." Jane sighed as she sat down. "Even if Charlie is there, it's not like anything can happen with his sisters around."

"I'd rather eat manure, sorry. You'd try your best to remember me, but will ultimately be incapable of doing anything but moon at Bingley, while I wither under the disapproving stares of his evil minders."

Jane blushed. "I don't moon at Charlie! And Caro and Darcy aren't that bad."

"Oh? I choose to disagree. Tell you what, I'll come if I can bring Lydia too. For company."

"What? Lizzie... No." Jane creased her fair brows. "Wait. You can't mean that."

Lizzie placed her hand over Jane's. "Janey, they don't want me there anymore than they want Lydia. Besides, my next chapter draft is late and I've barely got any words down and on top of that I have to work all week. So even if they did invite me, which they didn't, I would regretfully decline. So rest easy that I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything." She withdrew her hand and pointedly picked her tablet back up in an attempt to continue her work.

"I'll shut up now. Sorry, Lizzie, I'm distracting you."

A twang of guilt twisted Lizzie's chest as her sister's face fell. "You're never a distraction, Janey. At least, never an unwelcome one."

Jane stood up and opened her the closet as Lizzie attempted to regain her concentration. Jane kept her promise of silence but her systematic destruction her usually neat side of the room with rejected items of apparel was difficult not to be amused by. Eventually, after a flying sundress had hit Lizzie in the side of the head, she retreated to garden, finding a shady spot where only the distant thud of a tractor could disturb her peace.

It was true that Lizzie's round the clock schedule of work and study meant she had little time to attend any social events after the Lucas party. She had made plans to meet George Wickham for coffee after a couple of satisfyingly long phone conversations - he had asked for her number from Denny and though she didn't like her friends giving out her contact details, it had been a pleasant surprise when he called her the day following the night at the Lucas's. The coffee date, if she could call it such, was the only social engagement she allowed herself to commit to - but even the vague thrill of anticipation that gave her was subdued quickly under the vast quantity of writing she had due.

Jane on the other hand, had barely been around at all, with the surfing heats in full swing, though not all her absences were due to work. In her few evenings at home she had been in such a state of distraction that Lizzie didn't know whether to laugh at her or shake her. Their late night conversations had centred on mostly Bingley and a little Wickham but left much unsaid about what the blonde surfer's intentions. Whether the time they were spending together was a just a summer fling on his behalf or something more serious, Lizzie couldn't tell, but she was more than sure that Jane was swiftly losing her heart.

Jane left in the late afternoon with unasked for promises to clean her side of the room the next day and Lizzie settled in with her research, only stopping to make herself a cup to tea and some cheese and crackers to munch on while she worked. She had completed her bachelor of science with honours in the field of viticulture two years before and, after she had taken a year off to work in the abundant vineyards near her family farm to do some travelling in Europe, she had gone back to university to complete a masters degree. She didn't need it to get work, it wasn't even necessary to know how to read to find work picking or pruning the vines but if she wanted to get to get the opportunity to make her own wine blends, further education was the fastest route.

The evening passed with Lizzie not achieving as much as she had planned but she resigned herself to rest in preparation for her busy week. She was just getting ready for bed, planning to give her eyes a break and watch tv while she waited up for Jane, when her mobile phone rang. The shrill sound made her jump, shattering the cosy silence and she answered the unfamiliar number warily. "Hello, this is Lizzie Bennet."

"Hi, it's Will Darcy. I'm afraid something's come up. Literally. I don't think your sister will be able to make it home tonight."

"What's happened to her? Why isn't she ringing me to tell me this herself?" Lizzie tried to control the rising note of panic in her voice.

"It seems that Charlie left the chicken for the picnic in the car. He said he didn't think it was for longer than an hour but keeping time has never been his best attribute. Caroline and I, being the only two who didn't eat the chicken salad, are the only unaffected."

"I don't understand. Are you being deliberately obtuse?"

"No. Look, I'd drive Jane home myself, but I don't think either she nor the upholstery of my car would thank me. We think it's best if she stays the night."

Darcy's flat delivery painted a vivid picture of the scene that beset her sister, despite never once saying the word vomit. It would have amused Lizzie if it had related to anyone but Jane. As it was she found his evasive attitude irritating. "Let me speak to her."

"I'll see if she's finished with the porcelain telephone."

It was only a few moments before Lizzie heard the faint tones of her sister's voice. "Oh, Lizbat, I feel so sick."

"I'll come and pick you up."

"No, Lizzie, I couldn't get in a car." Lizzie heard a gagging sound. "Oh, I have to..."

"Jane?" Lizzie heard the phone tap against a hard surface and then the distressing noise of her sisters state. She waited until it stopped and Jane picked the phone up again.

"Sorry, Lizzie, I can't talk right now. I'll call you later."

"Jane, I'm coming over there. Can you give the phone back to Darcy?"

He clearly hadn't been far away for his deep voice echoed down the line almost immediately. "Hello?"

"I'm coming over. You obviously can't look after Jane properly if everyone is sick as well."

"Don't worry about your sister. I have it covered. I've called the maid service in to help."

"I should still come."

"There's no more spare bedrooms."

"I wasn't expecting to stay the night. I'll just come through and see Jane." Lizzie sighed as she looked at the clock. It was already past 10pm, her usual bedtime if she was getting up at 5am for work. A drive to Yallingup would delay her sleep by hours. But Jane sounded truly unwell and Lizzie knew she wouldn't get any rest at all if she didn't go to her. "Can you text me the address? I'll be there by 11 o'clock at the latest."

Lizzie hung up on Darcy before he could try to put her off again, quickly collecting some clean clothes and other items essential for Jane's comfort. The message from Darcy containing the address arrived shortly after she left with an added irritating directive not to make too much noise as most of the house was in bed. Her contrary inner voice tempted her to turn up her car stereo to max with the most inappropriate music she could find but she regretfully discarded the thought before she could succumb to impulse.

Lizzie recognised the house by the two black SUV's out the front before she even spotted the street number. It was too dark to see the ocean but by the sound of the waves the beach couldn't have been far away. The house in the daytime would have the most magnificent view of the bay but now it was closed and quiet, it's wide windows shuttered against the night.

As Lizzie approached the entrance the door swung open. The broad shoulders filling the bright spill of the doorway could only belong to Darcy. He looked calm and unruffled despite the inferred chaos. "Hello, Lizzie."

"Hi. How's Jane doing?"

"I'm not sure. Caroline just went to check on her." Darcy loomed above her from the greater height from the top of the doorsteps, his face in shadow. Lizzie realised at that moment that she had walked out of her door in the daggiest possible study outfit. Her most comfortable baggy arsed trackie-daks and one of her father's old AC/DC tshirts with the neck torn out. She pulled the shirt up onto her shoulders self consciously.

"Um...can I come in and see her?"

He moved out of the way so she could enter, stepping inside behind her and shutting the door. "It really wasn't necessary for you to come."

Lizzie reached into her bag for Jane's toothbrush. "She needs this at least."

"We have spares."

"Well, she'll want her pj's."

"Caroline found something for her."

"Ha, I've only met your girlfriend twice but I can't imagine she has anything close to comfortable pyjamas."

"I can't comment on Caroline's collection of sleepwear as she is not my girlfriend."

"Really? And have you told her this?" Lizzie knew she should bite her tongue but the words came unbidden.

Darcy's mouth twisted into a deprecating smirk. "Yes. Repeatedly."

It relieved Lizzie a little that he had at least a spark of humour. She caught herself mid laugh and found she didn't have a further reply. A quick glance at her companion caught him perusing her attire. The quirk of his eyebrow made her cheeks grow warm. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Would you like a drink or something?"

"Uh...no. I just want to make sure Jane's comfortable and then I'll go."

"She's up the stairs, second door on the left. Do you want me to take you to her?"

Lizzie looked up the stairwell. The house was large, but not so big that she would get lost. She shook her head. "No, I'm sure I'll be fine."

Darcy shrugged as she left him. Lizzie was sure he was further checking out the disreputable state of her clothing from his view at the base of the stairs but she checked the impulse to pull her pants up higher. As she came to the door she had been directed to, it opened abruptly to reveal Caroline. No one would guess she was residing in a house of turmoil by her perfect attire. Her white wide legged trousers and low cut sequin covered top could hardly be considered suitable to play nursemaid in.

Caroline visibly recoiled at the sight of Lizzie, giving her the once over with a rapid blink. "Your dedication to your sister is credit to you, but surely your visit could have waited until the morning?"

Lizzie smiled. "As you see, it couldn't. I promise I won't stay long."

"Stay, go. It's all the same to me. Tell the help if you need something."

Lizzie opened her mouth to ask how Jane fared but Caroline had walked away, her stiletto heels clacking rhythmically down the corridor. She pushed the door open, taking a moment to adjust her eyes to the dimmed lights to find her sister lying miserably on the bed, her head raised with a multitude of pillows.

"Lizzie, you came! You shouldn't have, I know you have to work tomorrow." Jane's usually glowing skin was wan, a faintly green tinge colouring the skin around her eyes and lips.

Lizzie sat herself on the edge of the bed, being careful not to disturb the bedding, and took her sister's hand. "If one more person tells me I'm unnecessary, I'm liable to start screaming. It's necessary to me, Janey."

Jane attempted to smile but it swiftly turned into a shudder. "Pass me the bucket, please!"

Lizzie stroked her sister's shoulder as she retched distressingly into bucket before laying back with a breathy sigh. "Oh God, I haven't felt this sick since I was 8."

"I remember. Mum fed us all off tuna sandwiches. It was totally disgusting."

"Please don't talk of it, Lizzie." Jane turned visibly greener. "The bucket!"

Lizzie held Jane's hair back as she vomited again. "I'm sorry, sweetheart! No more talking, just try and relax and let me know if there's anything I can do."

Jane nodded. "I feel better having you here."

"Shhh. I'll believe that when I see it." Jane lay back again, shutting her eyes under Lizzie's anxious gaze. She waited until her sister's breathing steadied before looking around to see if there was anything she could do to make her more comfortable. There was little to do but sit on the stool by the bed and watch over her. A jug of water sat on the bedside table with a box of tissues and towels covered the floor by the bed.

To bide the time between Jane's episodes, Lizzie retrieved her iPad from her bag and tried to read the article she had abandoned earlier. It was too technical to concentrate on. Lizzie read it through twice without being able to recall the content at all. Instead she found her mind examining her feelings about the house she was in and the nature of people who occupied it. Lizzie was happy for Jane that she had met Charlie but it worried her that her sister was about to be sucked into a world that Lizzie wanted no part of, nor wanted any part of her. The falsity of Caroline and Augusta and the cold detachment of Darcy, disturbed Lizzie more than Bingley's geniality could make up for. She could only hold vague hope that it wouldn't be so, that Bingley's friends and family would become more inclusive. It didn't really seem to be possible.

It wasn't long before Lizzie herself nodded off and she awoke with a cricked neck, her face pressed into a decidedly uncomfortable embroidered cushion. She checked her phone for the time with bleary eyes, barely stifling her groan when she found it well past 1am. Lizzie looked at the overstuffed armchair in the corner of the room longingly. If she could curl up there and catch a few more hours sleep, she could go straight to work from there in the morning. The vineyard was closer to Yallingup than Cowaramup anyway and it would allow her to fit in another hour of rest.

As tempting as the thought of sleep was, Lizzie couldn't allow herself to impose on the household without at least checking it was ok first. She padded quietly from the room, finding the house silent though the hallway lights were still lit. She hoped that the occupants had gone to bed and she could sleep for a few hours and wake early, leaving none the wiser of her impromptu stay. Halfway down the stairs she heard muffled conversation coming from a room that lay off the entrance hall. Caroline's voice was unmistakable. "But, Darcy, the house is already chaos without having her here as well. And there's nowhere to put her."

"I'll work something out, it's too late for her to drive home."

There was a long pause and Lizzie hovered on the steps, half tempted to go back upstairs to get her bag and drive home after all, when Caroline's voice echoed again. "Ugh, I can't believe she would turn up uninvited in the middle of the night, looking like that."

Darcy's voice was detached. "I saw nothing that unusual. She's only here to see her sister."

"She looked slovenly. Come on, Darcy, you saw her shirt. Imagine if Gigi got around like that."

Darcy chuckled. "That would never happen. She loathes AD/DC."

Caroline's tone grew arch. "Hmmm, I suppose then that your opinion of our visitor will have changed after seeing her here like this."

"My opinion remains the same, Caroline. Bing had no business to speak to you of that."

Caroline laughed. "Don't be so defensive, Darcy. I know what the girls around here are like. She's bound to..."

Darcy's voice cut her off sharply. "Drop it, Caroline."

Lizzie felt her face warm with mortification at the knowledge they had been talking of her. She had herself openly discussed her dislike of him with her family and friends at large but it unsettled her that he had been doing the same. Walking down to ask them if she could stay seemed an impossible task now. She closed her eyes in an attempt to subdue her flaming cheeks, wishing she could make a quick escape.

When she opened them again, she found Darcy looking quizzically up at her from the bottom step. "Are you ok, Lizzie?"

"Uh...yes...I was just...coming to say that Jane's asleep and I should get going." Lizzie wished the floor would open up and swallow her. Darcy had to know she'd been eavesdropping.

Darcy shook his head. "It's late and it's a long way to drive. I was coming up to tell you to stay here."

Lizzie restrained herself from rolling her eyes at his imperious words. "No need to concern yourself about me. I'm pretty used to driving at night around here. It'll be fine."

"No really, I insist. It's too dangerous. You're alone, there'll be roos on the road and you look ready to drop. It would be irresponsible of me to allow it."

"You said yourself there was nowhere for me to sleep. I really don't want to inconvenience you."

"Lizzie, there is no arguing with me on this."

"I doubt there's any arguing with you about much at all."

Darcy ignored her sullen response. "I'm going to get the bedroll from my car for you. We can put it in Jane's room so you can keep your eye on her. Ok?"

Lizzie did roll her eyes this time. "Fine. You win." She was too tired to find the energy to rail against his dictatorial attitude any more and instead sank down to sit on the stairs as he went outside. If she followed him she'd likely see Caroline and that wasn't something she felt she could bear at that very moment.

He didn't take long, returning with a plush looking swag. "It's comfortable, I promise you."

"Thanks, but I could sleep here on the stairs, I'm so tired."

"Then you would be an inconvenience. Trust me, this is a far better option."

Lizzie nodded and stood up. Exhaustion had undermined her defences and it was with uncharacteristic meekness that she trailed behind Darcy up the stairs and back to Jane's room. Before he could open the door to go in, Lizzie touched his arm. "It's ok, I've got it from here."

Darcy turned, regarding her for a moment before speaking. "It's heavy."

"I'm a farm girl, Darcy, lifting and carrying is what I do." She reached out to take the swag but he didn't let go. Lizzie let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously, you must think I'm completely useless."

"No, I think you're a guest in my house and common civility means I should make sure you're comfortable."

"Even unwelcome ones?"

"No, not unwelcome ones, ergo you are not unwelcome."

Lizzie gave the swag a tug, managing to pull it from Darcy's grip. It weighed far more than his easy hold had made her suppose and she staggered back in surprise. Darcy reached out to steady her and his warm unexpected touch against her fingers made her snatch her hand back so the bedroll dropped to the floor between them. Lizzie gave a nervous laugh. "It is heavier than it looks."

Darcy leant down and picked it up. "Just let me set it up for you and I'll be out of your way."

Lizzie opened the door to Jane's room allowing Darcy to go ahead of her. His voice dropped to whisper. "Shall I put it here by the bed?"

"Maybe not right next to. I wouldn't want Jane to wake up and mistake me for the bucket."

Darcy grimaced and dragged the bedroll toward the wall. "I put another bucket and some fresh towels in the ensuite earlier. Just chuck anything that needs washing in there and the maid service will sort it out in the morning."

Lizzie nodded. "Thanks." She stood uncomfortably as he arranged her bedding. "I have to leave early in the morning for work, so if I don't see you or Caroline, please let her know I'm grateful for the hospitality and her attention to Jane."

Darcy retreated to the door. "It's nothing. Sleep well, Lizzie."

"Goodnight."

The room dimmed as he shut the door and Lizzie leant over Jane to ensure their whispered conversation hadn't disturbed her. She was still pale, but her breathing had deepened and it looked like she had finally reached restorative sleep. Lizzie, on the other hand, had woken up entirely and she looked down at the bedroll with regret that she hadn't insisted on going home.

The ensuite was replete with every known and unknown item the hosts deemed necessary for a guests comfort. Lizzie looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and groaned. She looked a complete mess. A welt was marked redly on the sensitive skin of her cheek from the pillow she had slept on earlier and her eyes looked as heavy as they felt. She took a clean flannel and scrubbed at her face and plaited her tumbled curls in preparation for bed. A toothbrush sat in its unopened wrapper next to the sink and she only considered for a moment before ripping it open. Jane at least didn't need it now.

She set her phone alarm to wake her by 5am and changed into the pajamas she'd bought for Jane. The canvas swag was comfortable but it smelt undeniably masculine. There was soap, campfire smoke and something else indefinable. Lizzie snuggled down into it, unable to stop thinking of it's owner. It felt almost too intimate, like she was wearing his clothes but the cosiness quickly overcame her disquiet and she drifted into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thanks for the follows, favs and the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a long one! _**

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><p>It took a moment for Lizzie to realise where exactly she was when she awoke to the sound of her phone's message alert. She grasped sleepily at the dream that was already slipping from her memory, but all she could hold was the image of rows and rows of grapevines mazing around her. Her classic study anxiety dream, though the sense of longing that accompanied it was something new. The feeling faded quickly when she read the concerned message from her employer wondering where she was. Lizzie looked at the time and stifled a groan. It was already 8 o'clock, an hour past her usual starting time on the vineyard.<p>

Lizzie quickly texted back, ruefully explaining the situation and telling her boss she'd call after she had checked on Jane. Her sister was still asleep though evidence showed her night had been less than peaceful. The covers of her bed were tumbled and it looked like she had made her way to the bathroom more than once. She lay quietly now though, looking feverish and wan.

Lizzie sat by her side and took her hand. The skin felt hot and dry against her palm. "Janey?"

Jane opened heavy eyelids, blinking against the light. "Liz-bat?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Less sick, but my head is pounding."

"Can I get you anything to help?"

"Panadol, please. I think I have some in my bag. And something to drink, I'm really thirsty."

Lizzie looked at the water jug by the bed. It was mostly empty but how much of that had stayed down was questionable. "I'll go to the kitchen and see what I can find. And then I'll take you home. You need your own bed."

The house was mostly quiet though Lizzie could hear vague noises downstairs. She followed the sound in hope it would guide her to the kitchen. The maid there was busy preparing breakfast for the household. It looked like her work was cut out for her with the variety of dishes she was assembling. The smell of frying bacon made Lizzie's mouth water though she declined the offer of anything more than a cup of tea, finding some lemonade and a bottle of water in the fridge to take back to Jane.

As Lizzie returned to the stairs, she nearly walked into a pyjama clad Darcy. He looked at her in sleepy confusion. "You're still here. I thought you had to go to work."

Lizzie shrugged defensively. "I must have slept through my alarm or something. It's probably just as well, Jane isn't much better. How's everyone else?"

"I don't know about anyone else, but Bing seems fine, if a little sorry for himself." He glanced at the drinks she was holding. "He was just going to check to see if your sister needed anything, but you seem to have that covered. No doubt you'll find him there when you return."

Darcy's last words were thrown over his shoulder as he walked off in the direction she had just come from. His behaviour, dismissive and conciliatory by turn, had ceased to make Lizzie wonder. She contributed it to caprice; everything the man did was to please himself.

She put him out of her mind, a pattern of thought that was becoming distinctly familiar. Charlie was standing outside Jane's door, a look of indecision on his face. It changed to a smile as he looked up at her approach. He looked none the worse for his own difficult night. "Lizzie Bennet, Darcy told me you stayed over but that you had to leave early. I'm so glad you're still here. How is Jane? I was going into see her, but I didn't want to wake her up. I'm so sorry for poisoning her. Tell me, how is she?"

Lizzie couldn't help but smile at his earnest questions. "Good morning, Bingley. She's not that great actually. Not as recovered as you anyway. I think I'll take her to the doctor as soon as the clinic opens."

Bingley's face creased with concern. "Damn, she's that bad? Let me organise a house call, there's no doctor's surgery close by and I feel bad enough as it is."

Lizzie shook her head. "She'll think we're over reacting. But I am worried she's getting dehydrated. I'll take her to the doctor and then home."

Bingleys face became stubborn. "I must insist on this, Lizzie, it's entirely my fault that she's sick and if she can't keep any fluids down, she could end up in hospital."

Lizzie hesitated. Charlie's words echoed a concern she had been worrying herself. More than anything, she wanted to go home but making Jane endure the half hour drive to Dunsborough and the inevitable wait at the clinic wasn't an ordeal she particularly wanted her sister to go through.

Bingley continued. "Besides, we should all get a check up and it's easier to get a house call than trying to get Louisa and Hurst to the doctor as well. Hurst is pretty crappy too, though I suspect that wasn't helped by the two bottles of red he drank before dinner."

Lizzie slowly nodded. It was a far more comfortable solution for Jane, despite her own misgivings at remaining in the house any longer. "Ok, thanks, Charlie. Let me just see to Jane and I'll meet you downstairs."

Charlie smiled enthusiastically. "I'll find the number and then tell Jane I'll come and see her if she feels up to it. I have to offer my apologies in person, I feel terrible about it all."

Lizzie waited for Charlie to reach the stairs before she opened Jane's door. Her sister looked up at her entrance, a look of distress on her face. "I'm so embarrassed, Lizzie."

"You're the last person who should be feeling that, sweetheart." Lizzie rummaged in Jane's bag to find the painkillers and passed them to her with the selection of drinks she had found. "Charlie's mortified, he's going to call the doctor in for a house call to check on you."

"Oh, Lizzie, tell him he doesn't need to do that. I'll be fine."

"Shhh, just swallow your Panadol and try to drink some lemonade. I mixed it with some water to make it go flat."

Jane swallowed the tablets with a sip of the lemonade before laying back on the bed. Lizzie sat down beside her. "Do you think you could eat some breakfast?"

Jane shook her head with a shudder. "I don't want to risk it, even water feels a bit too much."

After Jane assured her there was nothing more she could do for her, Lizzie called her boss. Thankfully he was understanding of the difficult situation she had found herself in and told her not to worry about coming in that day. None of her duties couldn't wait until the following morning. When she hung up, she considered calling home to let her parents know what was going on but decided to wait until she knew when the doctor would arrive.

Lizzie wandered back downstairs to find Bingley and Darcy seated at the dining table, eating heartily from the array of dishes displayed on the buffet by the wall. Her stomach rumbled audibly. She was always starving in the morning and her snack of cheese and crackers the night before felt like an age ago.

Charlie looked up and smiled. "Join us, Lizzie. There's more than enough to go round."

"Thanks, I will. Did you find the number for the doctor? I want to sort that out first."

"Already done. They should be here within the hour."

Darcy looked up from his coffee and newspaper for the first time. "Good, you should get a check up too, Bing, you're meant to be competing tomorrow."

"I feel as right as rain. It's Jane we should be worried about."

Lizzie topped up her half drunk cup of tea and helped herself to toast, eggs and fried mushrooms Before taking a seat. The silence at the table suited Lizzie. She was rarely talkative in the morning, preferring to contemplate her breakfast in peace. It was a rarity in the Bennet house.

It wasn't long before Caroline sauntered into the room, her silk dressing gown trailing open over her close fitting negligee. Lizzie raised her eyebrows at the amount of flesh she showed. She thought about telling Darcy he must be well acquainted with Caroline's sleeping attire, despite his comment the night before. The tall blonde sat down at the table, declining the eggs with a shudder and reaching instead for the coffee. The press of her breasts against the table made Lizzie look away in fear that her hostess was about to expose herself. Her overt movements were obviously for the benefit of Darcy. Lizzie shot him a glance as she took a bite of toast. He had turned away, apparently absorbed in his newspaper, only his shoulder exposed to Caroline's display.

After she had finished her meal, Lizzie left the table to make the inevitable call to let her family know the situation, while Bingley went up to visit Jane. She hoped her father would answer the phone but instead was confronted with the shrill tones of Priscilla. She hadn't even noticed that neither of her eldest daughters had spent the night at home but it took Lizzie more than a few minutes to calm her down.

"Mum, it's fine. The doctor's on his way. She's just a bit under the weather, that's all."

"No, Lizzie, Jane's digestion has always been delicate. She needs her mother."

Lizzie was glad her mother couldn't see the face she was making. Priscilla was the last thing her sister needed under the circumstances. "Mum, seriously, there's enough people here already. Jane isn't in any danger. I'll call you when the doctor's seen her."

"I'll believe that when I see it my girl. You just sit tight and tell Jane that Mummy will be with her soon."

Lizzie sighed in resignation. "Look, if you must come, can you bring us both a change of clothes? And the books on my desk? I may as well get some work done while I'm trapped here."

"As if you need books when you're staying with Charlie Bingley. Oh, Lizzie, I wish you dressed better, I'll bring something of Lyddy's, nothing you have is suitable to wear."

"Mum, no. Just jeans and a t-shirt, both Jane and I will be home later on."

"We'll see about that. Now just hold tight and I'll be there straight after my nail appointment in Dunsborough. I wish I had time to get my hair done as well."

It took a while for Lizzie to extricate herself from the conversation and by the time she was finally off the phone the doctor had arrived. Bingley had escorted him up to Jane's room and she entered to find them both bent over Jane's bed, the doctor looking closely at a thermometer. "...the anti nausea medication should make her feel better almost immediately but if her temperature rises any more then take her to the hospital in Margaret River. You should check it every hour until it starts to lower."

Bingley was nodding avidly at the doctor's words. Despite his obvious concern for Jane, Lizzie found his presumption in talking to the doctor without her irritating. "Hi, Doctor, I'm Jane's sister, Lizzie. Can you tell me how she is?"

The doctor put the thermometer by the bedside table and turned to nod at Lizzie. "She'll be fine. I've just given her anti-nausea medication and she just needs rest and lots of liquids for a few days."

"Should she be eating as well?"

"Just light meals when she feels like it, nothing heavy or too fatty. It's important she doesn't overdo it."

"I'll see to it. I'll take her home as soon as you're done."

The doctor shook her head. "It's best if she's not moved unnecessarily, until she's feeling better at least. The motion may set off her symptons again. Any more fluid loss and I want her hospitalised and on a drip. So I'd prefer it that she stay in bed and remain quiet for the time being, at least for the next 24 hours. Will that be a problem?"

Charlie replied before Lizzie could speak up. "Not at all, Doctor, she can stay for as long as she needs." He met Lizzie's eyes. "The offer stands for you too, of course."

"Thanks, but I really should be getting home soon."

Jane's brow creased in disappointment. "Oh, Lizzie, can't you stay longer? Bing doesn't mind and I feel better with you around."

Bingley reiterated Jane's plea. "Yes, stay, Lizzie. It's the least I can do for both of you."

Despite Bing's lack of concern at her presence, she didn't think the rest of the household would be so tolerant. But Jane's wellbeing was paramount so she tried to disguise her reticence as she acquiesced to the request.

It wasn't until after Charlie and the doctor left to see the other affected members of the house that Lizzie's mother arrived. To Lizzie's dismay she had bought Lydia and Kitty along with her. Seeing them all trotting to the front door from her view at Jane's window made Lizzie rush outside to greet them before anyone else could, taking them directly back upstairs to Jane's room.

Priscilla clucked and fussed while Lydia and Kitty giggled between themselves. Jane accepted the attention with her usual loving warmth but Lizzie was ready to tear her hair out by the time she managed to convince the visitors it was time to allow Jane some quiet. Her mother smoothed the bed covers once more. "Now, Jane, I insist you stay put until you feel one hundred percent. I can tell they'll take good care of you here and God knows I don't have the time to be looking after you at home. I'll tell Charles Bingley that if he doesn't return you to me in better condition than before, then he doesn't deserve to be the boyfriend of one of my daughters."

Both Lizzie and Jane raised their voices in protest but Priscilla only chuckled. "I'm only joking, girls. I'd be happy to accept Charles Bingley as as son in law, no matter what he feeds you. And just think of what a few days of not eating will do for your figure, Janey."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I hardly think Jane needs to lose any weight, Mum. Now, the doctor said she needed rest, so can you all go and let her recover in peace? I'm going to stay with her and I'll call you if there's a any change."

Lizzie shepherded her mother and other sisters from the room, hoping to get them safely to the car before they encountered any of the rest of the household, forcing Lizzie to introduce them to her mother and subjecting them to the inane twitterings of her sisters. Her hopes were dashed when she found Bingley, Darcy and Caroline walking back to the front door after escorting doctor to her car. She tried to make the introductions perfunctory but both her mother and Bingley seemed inclined to chat. Darcy and Caroline stood apart, as did Lydia and Kitty, observing the conversation with varying degrees of disinterest.

Lizzie could barely look at anything else but Priscilla's pink talons that punctuated her every word. "My Jane is clearly very sick, and if the doctor says she shouldn't be moved, then she must stay. I expect you to look after her, Charles."

"Of course, I'm so sorry for getting her sick. The very least I can do is look after her. I'll wait on her hand and foot."

"I'm glad to hear it." Priscilla looked around at the gardens that surrounded the building, her voice growing arch. "This is a lovely house, Charles, the view is the best in town I hear. With so many attractions in the area you must be wanting to stay rather than leave for the next leg of the pro tour."

"If I wanted to quit the pro tour I could do it in a second and not care. For the moment I'm here indefinitely, this place makes me happy."

Lizzie interjected before her mother could say any more. "I could have guessed that. You'd find happiness anywhere."

Bingley smiled back at her somewhat ruefully. "I guess I would, which is to say I've never found myself anywhere I couldn't find something to please me. I suppose you find me easy to read. It makes me look quite simple, I'm afraid."

"I would say uncomplicated, rather than simple, which could never be a bad thing."

"But complicated people are more interesting."

"To read about perhaps, but not to hang out with. Secrets are more comfortable in fiction."

Darcy finally spoke, his words holding more than a note of disdain. "You'd have to read about them here. There's no secrets in small communities like this."

Priscilla let out an huff. "Small community? I'll have you know that Cowaramup has a population of a thousand people now."

Darcy raised his eyebrow and turned way to look at the view. The triumphant glance her mother shot Lizzie made her stomach clench. Priscilla's voice became more dogmatic. "There's entertainment here all year round now. The surf club has events every month. And no one does parties better than the Lucas's." She nudged Bingley encouragingly. "Wouldn't you say, Charles, that the society around here is equal to anything you've seen anywhere else?"

Bingley smiled good naturedly. "My opinion has already been established. As Lizzie pointed out, I'd be happy anywhere."

"That may be, but your friend seems to think we're a bunch of country hicks."

"Mum, that's not what Darcy said. He just meant that in small communities, everyone knows everybody else's business. You have to admit it's the truth."

"Of course, Lizzie, I never suggested otherwise but as I said and as I'll say it again, Cowaramup isn't small. There's even a new cafe opening next to the general store."

Lizzie searched her mind desperately to change the topic. "Did Mr Luko drop in today to help Dad with the harvester? Was Charlotte with him?"

"Yes, he did, and never was there a more helpful, socially minded individual." She gave a sniff in Darcy's general direction. "Now there's someone who understands how communities work, unlike some people. And Charlotte came too. She's just like her Dad." She elbowed Bingley again. "She's not growing any prettier, that one, don't you think, Charles?"

"Uh...I've only met her twice but I thought she was a very nice girl."

"Oh, she's nice alright but she couldn't hold a torch to my Jane, or any of my girls really. Even Mary's better looking. Why, Jane won first place in the regional beauty pageant. The organisers wanted her to compete in the state finals but she said it would interfere with her work. I told her she was an idiot to pass up a chance to meet eligible bachelors. One man even wanted to make her a movie star."

Lizzie took a breath and looked skyward. "Mum, I don't think they were the kind of films Jane wanted to star in."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lizzie, your feminist ideas have no place in this. Who cares if you take your clothes off? Especially with a body like Jane's."

The knowing smile that Caroline threw Darcy made Lizzie's skin crawl but she bit her tongue, knowing the next thing that she said could easily escalate the conversation into an argument between herself and her mother. The silence deepened making Lizzie quake that Priscilla would talk more about Jane's 'opportunity' but instead she laboured into general thanks for their hospitality of Jane and their tolerance of Lizzie's presence. Lizzie wanted to remind her that it was through Bingley's carelessness that Jane was sick in the first place but didn't want to give her mother more cause to linger. Finally Priscilla looked at her watch and sighed. "Well, I'd love to stay but I have to get home to make Mr Bennet's lunch. Come on, girls."

Priscilla looked around at Kitty and Lydia, who had been whispering between themselves for the course of the conversation. Now that Jane had caught Bingley's eye, Lydia had declared to anyone who would listen that he was too old. She had set her sights on the younger surfers in the heats instead. At least it meant she had ceased showing off in Bingley's presence but it didn't mean she wasn't averse to the social opportunities he could offer. "Charlie, you have to throw a party while you're here. This place would be perfect for it."

Bingley grinned at her. "What a great idea. Win or lose, we can make it a celebration for the end of the tour. When your sister is recovered, you can settle on the date between you."

Lydia bounced on her toes in excitement. "I guess you have to wait for Jane to get better so she can help organise it. But don't wait too long, most of the surfers leave straight after the comp's over.'

With that parting statement, Lizzie's family members departed, leaving the household to sit down for lunch. Lizzie took Jane some lemonade and some fruit and crackers and changed her clothes from the small bag her mother had bought for her. The top was more revealing than she would have chosen but at least her favourite jeans accompanied it. She left Jane with her meal and went back downstairs to join the dining table. It was a small gathering for the large amount of food displayed, Augusta had still not left her room and Hurst was only picking at his meal, muttering complaints about Bingley spoiling his holiday. Lizzie talked to Bingley sporadically as she ate but found her replies to his questions stilted by Darcy's close observation of their conversation. He himself ate in silence, ignoring Caroline's constant badgering, eventually leaving the table before the others had finished by excusing himself under the pretext of making a phone call.

Conversation came easier after his departure and both Bingley and Caroline remained at the table with her as she finished her meal. Caroline accompanied Lizzie to visit Jane afterward, becoming a different person in her sister's company, all conciliation and charm. Lizzie sat silently as she and Jane talked, marvelling at the warmth and interest Caroline showed, a stark contrast to the scornful behaviour she generally displayed to Lizzie.

Caroline left after a time citing a need to check on Augusta and left Lizzie to watch over her sister alone. She waited until Jane was asleep and returned downstairs to find a quiet spot to work. The good weather they had been enjoying was starting to turn and the threateningly grey sky meant Lizzie had to abandon her plans to sit outdoors. Instead she settled back at the now cleared dining table and opened her laptop, intending to read over the chapter draft she had been working on the night before. It was fairly challenging to concentrate, despite the quiet, and she found herself staring at the page before her, frustrated with her lack of progress.

It didn't help matters when Bingley and Hurst commenced a noisy game on the playstation. The sound of gunfire and their alternate excited shouts and defeated groans echoed through the house. She closed the document in defeat, instead joining the gathering in the living room, taking the one book her mother had bought her to read.

She had only just settled into a chair when Caroline loudly expressed her distaste for shooting games, insisting that they stop playing Call of Duty and put on a racing game they could all join in on. Despite Hursts protests at the change, she and Darcy joined them on the couch for the impromptu competition. Lizzie watched them play dispassionately. Her sister Mary was an avid gamer and Lizzie would sometimes join her, though not as often as when they were kids. When Bingley exhorted her to join his team, she declined, stating that she'd prefer to persist with her reading.

Hurst looked up from the console controller with a look of disbelief. "You prefer reading to gaming? Each to their own, I guess."

Caroline smirked from her position next to Darcy on the couch. "Lizzie is very dedicated and won't do anything that hasn't got to do with study. In fact, she thinks that any type of gaming is a waste of time."

Lizzie put down her book. "I wouldn't go that far. I have to force my self to study most of the time and can procrastinate for hours playing games."

"We've other games if you'd prefer, Lizzie." Bingley tried to grab the controller from Hurst, who snatched it out of reach while still continuing his driving mission. "Come on, Hurst, play nice."

Lizzie shook her head. "Seriously, don't worry about me. I really am happy with my book."

The conversation dropped as the gaming became more competitive. After Caroline lost for the third consecutive time, she tossed the controller to the table and gave a sigh. "This is boring. Darcy, entertain me. Tell me about Gigi, I haven't seen her in an age. Is she taller now?"

Darcy barely looked up from his phone as he replied. "She's probably about as tall as Lizzie."

"Not much taller at all then. A pity." She leaned back against the cushions, pressing her thigh closer to Darcy who shuffled across to make more room. "More's the pity that she had to leave her boarding school in the city. Denmark can't be challenging enough for a girl of her talents. She's such an accomplished performer, it's a shame she's rotting away in Denmark with no opportunities to pursue it. She sings and dances like no other I've seen. And don't even mention the poor education she must be getting at the local high school there. Really, Darcy, you need to let her go back to Perth, though a school over east would no doubt be better."

"Denmark is perfectly adequate for Gigi at the moment. She can move wherever she wants when she finishes school and goes to university." The implacable tone of his words made Lizzie wonder if Darcy's sister truly wanted to go to uni or if it was just the plan that her overbearing brother had set out for her.

Bingley abandoned his attempt to beat Hurst and put his controller down. "Heaps of girls from the country I meet have accomplishments. There's lots of opportunity for her, I reckon."

"Are you joking?" Caroline scoffed, "the biggest accomplishment for most the girls you've met here is the ability to giggle and bounce their tits at the same time."

Darcy raised his brow. "That's a fairly crude way of putting it but I suppose there's something in what you say. Charlie doesn't really attract the intellectual type."

Bingley let out an outraged choke of laughter. "Hey, I resent that."

Lizzie felt a flash of anger at the perceived slur against her sister and glared at Darcy. "Perhaps if you looked for something more, you'd find it. Or maybe skin deep is all you're interested in."

Darcy looked affronted. "I wasn't speaking for myself. I'd prefer educated conversation over, what was it that you said, Caroline, 'bouncing tits', any day."

His reply did nothing to calm her. "Education your pleasure or for it's own sake? And just because Jane hasn't been to university, it doesn't mean she's dumb."

"I'm not talking about your sister, I don't know her well enough to comment on her at all. I was generalising. The life Bingley lives on tour seems like one long beach party."

Hurst cursed and threw down the play station controller. "Damn buttons, they must be stuck or something."

"If you stopped throwing it on the floor maybe it would work better." Bingley grabbed the controller and reset the game. Lizzie tried to concentrate on her book again but found Darcy's continued presence too aggravating. It was a struggle not to have another go at at his chauvinistic attitude. She stood up instead, excusing herself to go upstairs to check on Jane again.

Her sister had never been particularly academically successful at school. Late discovered dyslexia had been a problem she struggled to overcome. But her excellent taste, ability to charm all who met her and unparalleled organisational skills had already made her fledgling career in event management very successful. Darcy and Caroline's inflammatory comments, and Bingley's failure to defend either himself nor Jane, infuriated her and she found it difficult to hide her irritation from her sister when she awoke. Lizzie schooled her face into a gentle smile and sat quietly by her sisters bedside for the remainder of the afternoon.


	5. Chapter 5

Lizzie succeeded in subduing her irritation by the time she was called down for dinner. She had hoped Jane would be well enough to join them, her presence would always have a measuring effect on conversation, but she had declined, choosing to eat in her room alone. Her sister had at least managed to leave her bed, for more reason than just visiting the bathroom, settling in the chair with a view of the garden to eat the light salad the maid had prepared for her. Only Bingley had come to visit her during the afternoon, but it was clear that his restless nature didn't lend itself to nursing. When Jane's cheeks started flushing with a feverish glow, Lizzie gently but firmly escorted him to the door.

Lizzie determined to keep her conversation general as she descended the stairs. By her reckoning, this would have to be the last time, at least in the near future, she would have to spend in the company of Darcy and Caroline. She could handle Bingley on his own. On entering the dining room, she found an even more lavish affair than lunch. She hadn't been informed it was necessary to dress up to eat but her simple outfit was certainly at odds with the gowns Bingley's sisters wore and the jackets the men had all donned in which to consume their meals. Being self conscious, however, was also something she had decided to avoid so she lifted her chin and entered the room with as much poise as any. Augusta and Caroline spent most of the meal whispering between themselves though Charlie was as congenial as ever. Lizzie fell into casual conversation with him, negotiating the occasional comment from Darcy or one of Bingley's sisters with casual distance.

After the meal they retired to the living room to watch television. Hurst sulked that he wasn't allowed to play PlayStation but Caroline and Augusta insisted on a reality TV show. Lizzie found the book she had been reading previously far more appealing than what was on the screen. It was clearly not to Darcy's taste either, who set himself up at the small writing desk by the door, tapping away at his laptop rather than joining the assembly on the couch.

He wasn't left in peace for long, by the first ad break Caroline had hopefully positioned herself at Darcy's side, trying to read over his shoulder. "Caroline, can you move? You're in my light."

Caroline moved to perch herself at the side of the desk. "You type so fast, Darcy."

"Not particularly."

"I disagree. Look, the words are just flying from your fingertips. I'm sure your spelling is perfect too."

Darcy made a noise in his throat but no other reply left his lips.

"Who are you writing to?"

"I'm emailing Gigi."

"How I long to see her, you should tell her to visit us."

"She's at school, Caro."

"She must be studying for exams. Gigi's so clever, just like all her family. Wish her the best from me." Caroline traced her fingers over Darcy's shoulder, making him shrug. "You do write the most delightful emails, I almost wish I was away so that you would write one to me."

Bingley let out a laugh. "Calm down, Caro. Darcy barely even writes to me and when he does I need a dictionary to understand what he's talking about."

"Well, who would want to write to you? One can barely make out what you're trying to say in your text messages. You rely wholly on spellcheck and it makes them unintelligible."

"My brain moves so fast my fingers can't keep up. I'd edit my messages before sending them but it's so boring, I can never be bothered."

Lizzie glanced up from her book with a chuckle. "Your self awareness should at least be admired, Charlie."

Darcy turned from the desk and met her eyes before addressing himself to Bingley. "Knowing a fault and doing nothing to change it can't be seen as admirable. Either you're too lazy to amend it or too arrogant to care."

Bingley smiled lazily from the couch. "And which description do you think fits me best."

"Both. I can hardly get you to reply to a text message, generally you deny that you ever received it at all. I wonder that you have a phone at all except to write random Facebook posts, never considering the fact that people might be trying to get in touch with you."

Lizzie couldn't help but interrupt, though it made her abandon her earlier promise to herself to avoid inflammatory comments. "I think it shows a remarkable lack of arrogance, if Charlie knows it's a fault but doesn't care that people might judge him for it."

"Ha! See Darcy. I say the arrogance is all yours."

"It's the respect due others and to myself. I'd rather be thought arrogant than careless."

"Well, that's something that is unlikely to happen." Lizzie wondered if she'd gone too far but Darcy just looked at her levelly.

"At least a measured response can't be misunderstood. Bingley's as thoughtless with journalists as he is online. He comments before he thinks and the media always seem to get hold of it. It's exactly like earlier today when he told your mother that if he felt like quitting the tour, he'd do it in a second. He forgets that anything he says that gets out will be published and more than once he's found himself in trouble with his sponsors for saying something that goes against his contract."

Lizzie closed her book and set it on the coffee table. "But he only said that to be agreeable so it just confirms that Charlie can adapt himself to whatever situation he finds himself in. I think it's a merit, not a fault, that pleasing others makes him happy."

"Thanks for your defence of me, Lizzie, but Darcy's always telling me to pull my head in, and, happiness aside, I'll take his advice because he's usually right."

"But it seems to me that your willingness to be open with your decisions makes him think less of you, which is hardly fair."

Bingley raised his brow, tilting his head toward his friend. "I can't comment on what Darcy thinks of me, I'll leave that for him to say."

"You seem to have decided between you what I think, though if it were true, it seems I could convince Bing to jump off a cliff if I suggested it."

"So you're saying you'd prefer it if he ignored your advice and stuck to his convictions?"

"I'd prefer it if he at least had convictions rather than changing his mind every 30 seconds."

"Even if it were to jump off a cliff?"

Charlie interjected with a chuckle. "Lizzie, Darcy is so much bigger than me that it may be that I change my mind through intimidation rather than any belief he knows my business any better than I do. Who's to know if I jumped or I was pushed?"

Darcy smiled thinly but Lizzie choked off her laugh as she could see he was more offended by Bingley's words than his friend could see. Darcy's reply was cool. "I think you're just saying that to change the subject, Bing. There's nothing you hate more than an argument."

"That I'll own up to. But if you must continue to disagree on my character, you could at least wait until I've gone to bed."

Lizzie cleared her throat as picked her reading up again. "I think there's little left to say. Darcy would be much better occupied finishing his email to his sister and myself, reading my book." She tried to pick up her place on the page, wishing it was early enough to go to bed, unwilling to acknowledge to herself that she was actually enjoying the engagement.

Silence settled until Charlie raised the topic of the party he had promised Lydia and Kitty. "Lizzie, I know all the people from the tour I need to ask but do you think you could help me put together a list of the local residents to invite?"

"Jane would be much better equipped to help you with that, but really Charlie, don't feel obliged on my sisters account to throw a party. I thought you just agreed to it out of politeness." Lizzie would have been very pleased if he declared no intention of hosting a party. It would be a difficult event to decline, no matter how she wished it.

"But I promised them. And I like the idea. It'll be my way of thanking everyone for the warm welcome they've given me."

Caroline's decisive interjection certainly made it clear that she was fed up of being left out of the conversation. "Are you seriously thinking about holding an event here, Charlie. I wish you'd ask us our opinions before committing to something like that. There might be some of us who aren't very keen on the idea."

Charlie laughed. "You mean Darcy of course. Well, if he doesn't want to join in then he can stay in his room. I'm completely serious. As soon as Jane can help me with a date, I'll set up an event page on Facebook and link it to the tour site."

"You could at least send out proper invitations." Caroline made a face as she continued. "I absolutely loathe facebook event requests, what's wrong with inviting people somewhere the old fashioned way?"

Charlie scoffed. "You're the one who just put me down over my inability to string together a sentence. If you want old fashioned, then you'll have to look after it yourself."

Caroline gave him an incredulous smile in lieu of any other response. Presently, she gave a deep sigh and stood up, pacing elegantly across to the french doors that led to the deck to throw the curtains open. "It's beautiful night, the moon's just rising. Lizzie, you must be stiff from sitting so long, join me for a stroll around the deck?"

Lizzie blinked in astonishment at the pleasantly offered invitation. She didn't much feel like accepting but could think of no good reason to decline. Caroline pushed the doors wide open, ignoring Hurst's complaints about the breeze. "See, it's magnificent out here."

Lizzie had to agree. The waxing moon rising over the ocean was indeed a magical sight. Caroline looked back inside the lounge room as Lizzie joined her. "Darcy, you should come out too."

Darcy looked up from his laptop to regard the pair, a vexingly enigmatic expression on his features. "I know where I'm not welcome. You can only have dragged Lizzie outdoors for one of two reasons."

Caroline's attitude became coy. "What do you mean? How do we make him explain himself, Lizzie?"

"I haven't the slightest idea. No doubt he means to judge us in one way or another, so it's probably best to ignore him."

But Caroline wouldn't be put off and insisted that Darcy explain. When it was clear her badgering wouldn't stop he eventually complied. "Either you want to tell each other secrets, which would put me entirely in the way, or you know that the light of the moon is the most flattering of all and you want to show off. If that's the case, I can admire the effect better from here."

Caroline let out a giggle. "What a thing to say, Darcy! Lizzie, how can we get him back?"

"That should be easy enough. If Darcy's determined to get a response out of us, then surely we can give him back some shit and laugh at his expense instead? You must know something we can tease him about."

Caroline shook her head. "Tease such self possession and intellect? Believe me, Lizzie, it would dangerous to even try."

Lizzie looked back at Darcy, who met her gaze with equanimity. "Not even a little? How disappointing. There is nothing I like more than poking a bit of fun with my friends at something silly someone's done."

Darcy raised his eyebrow. "Everyone can be made a mockery of. People get flamed for trying their best all the time."

"I hope I'd never be guilty of laughing at something that damaged someone who was truly trying to do good, but I confess the crazy, thoughtless things people more often do are usually begging to be made fun of." Lizzie tilted her head to meet Darcy's eyes more fully. "But I guess you would never do such things?"

"It's always been my preference to avoid the kind of behaviour that the media or my acquaintances can make a mockery of."

"Such as egomania?"

Darcy let out a short laugh. "A healthy ego is nothing to be ashamed of. You possess one yourself."

Lizzie bit her lip to control the answering chuckle that was threatening to emerge and turned back to gaze at the view. Caroline tried her best to insert herself back into the conversation. "Your examination of Darcy is over? Tell me, what did you decide?"

The moon got the full benefit of the smile Lizzie had failed to subdue. "You were right, Darcy is clearly perfect. Even he admits it."

Darcy's voice rose with an amused resignation from the room behind them. "I can still hear you and I refute that I said that. I'm sure I have many faults, but not, I hope of understanding or discernment. But my temper is foul, as Bing here will attest I'm sure, and I find it difficult to either forgive or forget when someone has crossed me or my family and friends. So call me resentful, if you like."

Lizzie couldn't help but look back over her shoulder at him as she responded. "I will. But seeing that you've identified your own faults, I can hardly laugh at them."

"I believe you might agree with me, Lizzie, if I say that everybody has at least one fault, to struggle with or celebrate as they will."

"Yes, and I picked yours as soon as I met you. You're determined to hate everyone."

He smiled at her then, showing no hint of the annoyance she was sure he was feeling. "And you take positive enjoyment in wilfully misrepresenting everyone."

Caroline switched on the outside light making Lizzie blink in the unexpected brightness. The tall blonde walked back inside, stopping just inside the doorway, interrupting the eye contact between Lizzie and Darcy. "I think I'll put some music on. Gussie, wake up Hurst. He's snoring."

Lizzie stayed outside on the deck, half tempted to go back inside to continue her verbal spar with Darcy and half inclined to retire to her bedroll, dismissing him altogether. But by the time Caroline had finished loudly vacillating over which song she most wished to listen too, he had shut down his laptop and bid the room a general goodnight. It made for an uncomfortable circumstance; Lizzie wished to follow his example but was unwilling to leave the room so shortly after him. That would be an action sure to make Caroline think that she had only remained for Darcy's attention in the first place. So Lizzie remained where she was, her thoughts blinding her to the moon's slow rise reflecting over the water.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Shorter chapter, but really it's a continuation of the previous. Massive shout out to all the Aussies reading and sharing their thoughts with me. For Bellebelles, fellow Perth P&amp;P fan, Lizzie's doing her masters at UWA but her undergrad was at Curtin. Thanks for the R's, F's and F's. You guys rock.<em>**


	6. Chapter 6

The following morning Lizzie left Jane still in bed at Bingley's, though she woke up just when her sister was about to slip out the door to go to work. "Are you going, Lizzie?"

"I have to, I can't miss another day. How are you feeling?"

Jane smiled, displaying the habitual glow that had been so dimmed over the past few days. "Much better. Looking forward to finally leaving this room."

"Will you be ok to get home?"

"I'll be fine."

After a few more assurances of the same sort, Lizzie left her sister alone. The house was dim in the early morning light as she felt her way to the kitchen to snatch some breakfast before she left, feeling like a thief as she rummaged through the fridge. Despite the fact she had barely seen a morsel of food pass Caroline's lips, she hoped the punnet of berries she helped herself to, were meant for her own breakfast.

She nearly dropped them in fright when Bingley walked in the door. "Morning, Lizzie."

"You startled me! I didn't think anyone else was up."

"Darcy and I are going for a surf. My heat's this arvo and I've got to loosen up a bit. How's Jane?"

"She says she's much better, I think she's ok to go home."

"Surely she should stay another day to make sure?"

"She said she'd be fine to drive herself home, though I could come back and get her later if she's not up to it. If it's ok to leave her car here til we can pick it up, that is?"

"Darcy and I'll look after that. I'll drive her on my way to Prevally this afternoon for the heats and he can follow us in her car."

Lizzie didn't think Darcy would be too pleased with how his friend planned to commandeer his time but didn't voice her suspicions. She waved the fruit she held at him. "I helped myself to some breakfast. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. You should come with us to the beach, now you're up. The swell's perfect this morning, I only hope it stays like it for the rest of the day."

She shook her head. "I can't, I have to go to work before there'll be no job for me to go to."

"We won't be long, Darcy's just coming downstairs now."

Lizzie had checked her phone for the time. "I really have to be going or I'll be late." The words weren't strictly true, the vineyard she worked in was only about ten minutes away but she felt it wise to leave before she ran out of luck and into some of the other members of the household. "Thanks for having me, Charlie, I'll see you soon. Good luck for today."

He smiled eagerly as he walked her out the front door to her car. "Maybe you and Jane could come and watch my heat this afternoon. It's at 3 o'clock."

Lizzie knew there was no way she would be able to get there but she just smiled and told him she would do her best. Darcy came outside just as she turned the ignition, joining Bingley on the steps as he waved farewell. Despite the morning chill, he was just wearing his board shorts with his wetsuit slung over his shoulder. It was obscene that he could look so good at that hour, his rumpled hair and sleep soft expression making him look positively approachable. Lizzie allowed herself one glance at the way his low-slung shorts embraced his narrow hips, exposing the ripple of muscle that ran up his torso before she forced her eyes to the driveway before her. It wasn't quite out of sight, out of mind though. The vision had revisited her all day, until she was ready to wash her contrary brain out with the bleach she was using so violently on the cellar floor she was cleaning.

Lizzie generally enjoyed her work on the vineyards. The part time hours allowed her time to study while allowing her to keep in touch with the industry. She was employed at one of the more popular wineries in the region but as it was still small scale, her duties were varied. Some jobs she enjoyed more than others. Tasting the new vintages was of course her favourite, but she didn't mind the physical labour in the vineyards either. The job she had to do that day however, she always hated. Cleaning out the cellars however, was as important a job as any, so she tried to be philosophical about it, working through her thoughts as she methodically swept and scrubbed. Often she would think about her thesis but today it couldn't hold forefront in her thoughts. In spite of her best efforts, William Darcy held that honour for much of the morning.

Lizzie's stomach was rumbling by the time the task was complete, the fruit she had eaten in the morning having long worn off. Usually she would take a packed lunch, for though the winery had a restaurant attached, the prices were a little out of her league for daily indulgence, despite the staff discount she received. She was considering whether she would allow herself to spurge for once and get the chef to make her a meal, or if she should make drive back to the Yallingup general store for a sandwich when Charlotte's welcome face appeared in the bright light streaming through the cellar door.

"Jesus, Lizzie, I know cellar cleaning can be a filthy job, but you don't have to use yourself as the mop!"

Lizzie laughed as she looked down at her soaked work shirt. "Sometimes you have to resort to desperate measures." She shoved the mop back into the store cupboard and walked outside to join her friend. "I'm so glad you're here, I have so much to tell you. You wouldn't believe the…" Her voice stopped abruptly at the sight of the unknown man standing beside Charlotte. "Oh, I didn't realise you were with someone."

"I'm taking Bill here on a tour of the local wineries and thought we'd stop and have lunch with you. You can stop for lunch can't you?" Charlotte had an agitated look in her eye, which was unusual for her normally laid back friend. "My shout."

Bill stepped forward, looking as though he would shake her hand, but at the sight of her filthy clothes he flexed his fingers, holding them against his chest instead. "No, it would be an honour to buy such lovely young ladies a meal. Do join us."

"That's entirely unnecessary, thank you though." She wiped her hand on her jeans and held it out. "I'm Lizzie Bennet, nice to meet you."

"Charmed indeed." He finally took her fingers, shaking them perfunctorily though by the feel of his sweaty palm, Lizzie was grateful for it's brevity. "William Collins, but please call me Bill."

"Please join us for lunch, Lizzie. Bill here can tell you all about De Bourgh Estate, he's the vineyard manager there. He's been...uh...regaling me with fascinating stories about it all morning and I don't doubt he'd be happy to share them with you." Charlotte's look of appeal had become more of one of desperation.

"I'd be very happy to tell you about the estate, I'm sure you are desperate to more about the workings of the place and, of course, Mrs de Bourgh's brilliant management style." Bill puffed out his chest as he looked around the site. "What a charming entrance to the cellar, it put's me in mind of Mrs De Bourgh's own cellar doors, though hers of course are much more imposing."

Lizzie nodded at him. She been to De Bourgh estate on a few occasions, though the techniques of mass production applied there didn't interest her as much as the smaller, more traditional wineries she liked to visit. It was one of the largest producers in the region, having numerous vineyards, as well as buying in large quantities of grapes from smaller producers. The Lucas holding was one such supplier but, by the way the family had to bend themselves into shapes to keep the contract, it wasn't something Lizzie envied them.

"Lizzie, go and get changed. In fact, Bill, you go ahead and have a look around the gardens, I know how much you enjoy them, and I'll just go with Lizzie for a moment. See you in the restaurant in 10 minutes?"

Charlotte didn't wait for his response, taking Lizzie's arm and dragging her away. "What's got into you, Lottie?"

"One more second in that man's company and I'm likely to throttle him. He is the most pompous prat I've ever met, I can barely look at him anymore without wanting to run in the opposite direction."

"Why are you touring vineyards with him then?"

"Dad made me. He's come to get some vine cuttings and they're not ready yet so dad fobbed him off onto me. It sounded better than digging out stumps in the new plot we're preparing for planting, but that was before I met him. All morning it's been Mrs De Bourgh this, and Mrs De Bourgh that. I had to drag him here in self preservation."

"So you thought you'd share the pleasure around?"

"Well, actually, I'm trying to do you a favour. De Bourgh estate is looking for an assistant manager to fill in for a few months while their regular goes to France for training. I thought it might be something you'd be interested in. No more scrubbing cellars?"

"Aren't you qualified for that too?"

"Yes, but they're looking for a number of people and it didn't take me long to realise that the only way I could bear Bill's company for more that a day would be if you were there to share it."

Lizzie giggled. "Generous of you."

"Yes, it is isn't it? Now, hurry up. If I leave Bill for too long he's likely to get into some sort of trouble. You wouldn't believe the to-do at Wild Wood Estate when I lost him for ten minutes only to find him in the manager's office looking at their accounts book. I swear, Lizzie, the man has no sense of boundaries."

Lizzie shucked off her work clothes, sniffing ruefully at the garments she had worn there that morning. It couldn't be too soon before she got home to her own shower and clean clothes. Luckily, Bill hadn't got far and Lizzie and Charlotte found him admiring the plane trees shading the restaurant. He didn't stop prosing about their autumnal colours until the waitress had taken their order. Lizzie hesitated at the offer of wine; she didn't usually drink with lunch, but swiftly decided that the best way to deal with the tedium of Bill's company was to lubricate it.

"Charlotte tells me that you're completing a masters in viticulture, Lizzie. What is your thesis topic?"

"I'm looking at how traditional organic vineyard practices can be adapted for larger operations."

"You must be fascinated by De Bourgh estate then, there's no winery with greater efficiency of practice."

Lizzie merely nodded, deciding that the present wasn't the time to say that the methods adopted at the estate could hardly be defined as sustainable practice. Instead she asked about their processing methods, which Bill took as an invitation to pontificate about the inefficiencies of hand picking and how nearly all the vines at De Bourgh had been converted for machine harvesting. "Finally Mrs De Bourgh doesn't need to employ the rabble of ferals and drop outs that we used to have to tolerate during harvest. Mung beans and drug addicts the lot of them."

Lizzie couldn't hold her tongue to mere pleasantries for any longer. "I think the variety of people you meet during harvest makes it one of the best times of year. I don't think you can damn everyone who comes here for the season like that."

"You just look at the crime statistics, Lizzie, you'll see Mrs De Bourgh is right. She can't wait for the time when all the properties around here are industrialised and we don't need to put up with it anymore."

"But what about the oldest plantings of grapes that can't be converted. They make some of the best vintages around here?"

"That's debatable. You can't stand in the way of technology, Lizzie, it's the way of the future."

Lizzie couldn't be bothered telling him that that was exactly why she had chosen the topic for her thesis and that sustainable practice was at the core of her interest in her studies. Luckily their food arrived and Bill turned his focus to the plate before him, rather than continuing to assert his inflammatory opinions.

After making good inroads into his meal, he revisited the conversation. "It's quite a quaint operation they have here. What duties does your position entail?"

"Officially I'm the cellar hand, but it's such a small holding that I pretty much get involved in everything."

"You must be anxious to stop having to do so much manual labour and find a position at a larger company."

Lizzie considered her words before she spoke. She enjoyed most of the manual tasks she needed to do and the variety in her work had given her an insight into many of the processes in a commercial estate that otherwise she wouldn't have been exposed to. But likewise, she was interested in experiencing the techniques applied at De Bourgh Estate first hand, so she made her reply conciliatory. "I'm interested in all practices in viticulture. And there's always hard work to do in a vineyard, no matter how much technology is introduced. There's no pruning machine yet."

Collins shook his head. "Not yet, but some of the advances they're making in California might prove that that isn't far off. It's already possible to make fine wine, without a human hand touching the raw product and from what I saw in the US last year, soon we'll be able to do without manual handling at all." Bill pushed his empty plate away and gave a satisfied sigh. "You must tell the chef here that his aioli is on par with that served at De Bourgh Estate. He'll be flattered to know, I'm sure."

"I'll let her know. She'll be in transports of delight by your praise, I'm sure."

Charlotte snorted at her plate but Bill didn't pick up on the sarcasm that coloured Lizzie's words, just nodding thoughtfully before continuing. "Perhaps you may get the chance to experience our chef's work yourself. We are looking to offer an opportunity for someone to second with us for a few months and Charlotte mentioned you as a suitable applicant. The position is paid of course, but really by the experience we can offer there, the lucky people who we employ should really be paying her. She even provides separate facilities for the employees on site so they don't have to find accommodation elsewhere."

Lizzie nearly choked on the last of her salad. She took a gulp of her wine to clear her throat. "How exceptional of her."

"Indeed. There is no one more generous. So when will you be able to attend her?"

"Uh…" The fast turn of conversation from discussion to certainties left Lizzie a little adrift and she could wish she hadn't drunk her wine so fast. "I'll need to discuss it with my boss, I don't want to leave him short handed. But, you're right, it's an amazing opportunity."

"If you could come to us for two weeks in June, both you and Charlotte, you would be able to see what the positions entail. You would, of course, have to receive approval from Mrs de Bourgh herself but, from what I have seen, she may just find you satisfactory."

Lizzie considered the offer. The position would be a great addition to her resume and furthermore, it would save her from the gruelling months of vine pruning, which now that the harvest season was over would be her main duty for the foreseeable future. Bill didn't look particularly happy when she reiterated that she'd have to discuss it with her current employer but he did concede it was the correct thing to do. "Bird in hand, I suppose. And Mrs De Bourgh may decide you're unsuitable after all."

Lizzie decided not to reply by saying that it could just as easily go the other way and instead smiled her thanks before checking the time. "I have to get back to work now. Thanks again for the offer, I'll definitely consider it. I assume I can get your contact details from Charlotte to let you know if I can come?"

Bill nodded. "Can you let me know by end of day tomorrow? Mrs De Bourgh is anxious to have it settled, she very much dislikes uncertainty when is comes to her staffing arrangements."

Lizzie agreed that a quick response was achievable. She was almost about to offer to pay for own lunch but changed her mind when Bill pulled out his wallet. Mrs De Bourgh's corporate account could surely bear the cost of her meal.

As she walked back to get changed into her work clothes again after farewelling Charlotte and Bill, Lizzie's phone sounded an alert. It was from Wickham and she smiled to herself as she read his message asking her what time they were to meet that evening and if she wanted him to pick her up. It surprised Lizzie that it had slipped her mind that her date with him was for that day but there had been so much on her plate recently that it wasn't that odd she had forgotten. She responded by telling him she would meet him at the pub in Margaret River, calculating exactly how long it would take her to get home and wash her hair before confirming the time.

The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly with both Bill's offer and her date with Wickham to keep Lizzie's thoughts occupied. After completing her final tasks for the day, she found her boss to discuss with him the opportunity as De Bourgh Estate. "You should take it, Liz. God knows we'd hate to lose you during the pruning season, but we can't offer that kind of experience." He winked at her as he continued. "Just watch your step around Mrs De Bourgh, she's notoriously difficult and we want you back with us in one piece, ok? And if it all goes pear shaped, you can come back anytime."

Lizzie stayed chatting with her boss for longer than she realised, making her feel rushed to get ready when she finally got home. Jane was working at her computer but stopped when Lizzie returned, following her to the bathroom to talk to her while she showered.

"How did Charlie go in his heat this afternoon?"

"I don't know, it hasn't been published on the website yet."

"You couldn't go down to watch?"

Jane shook her head, looking a little upset. "No, I had so many emails from clients when I got home, I just couldn't neglect work any longer. Charlie begged me to come down but… I feel terrible that I couldn't go."

"Jane, everyone has to work, I'm sure he understands."

"I guess so, but I still feel bad." Jane didn't look too convinced that Lizzie's instincts were correct. "Where are you going with Wickham tonight."

"We're just meeting at the Margaret River pub, we haven't set anything else." Lizzie turned off the shower. "Pass me a towel? And can you be a sweetheart and find me something clean to wear? I don't want to be late."

Lizzie looked critically at her reflection in the mirror, deciding she'd have to leave off blowing drying her hair if she were to make it in time. Tying her damp curls up into a ponytail would have to do, though she added a bit of makeup to look like she had at least made some effort for her date. Jane had found her a knit dress, which Lizzie put on without argument. It skimmed her curves but didn't show so much cleavage that Lizzie would be uncomfortable. "Thanks, you're a darling. Is my hair ok?"

"It's fine. What time will you be home?"

"I don't know, not late I don't think."

"I'll wait up for you."

Wickham already there when she finally reached the pub. He stood up to greet her, giving her a kiss on the cheek before gesturing at his half empty pint glass, his handsome face twisting into a rueful grin. "You're a sight for sore eyes. Sorry, I started without you. I know we said coffee but I need a bloody drink after the day I had today. What'll you have, Lizzie? My round, you can get the next one."

"What ever you're having will be fine." Lizzie hadn't planned on drinking but she thought she could manage one or two and still drive home later.

He quickly downed the last of his drink and left her at the table. Lizzie's position at the table gave her ample opportunity to observe him as he ordered. It was obvious the barmaid was taken by his charming manner; he seemed ready to flirt with everyone. But when he returned to Lizzie, his smile seemed to be just for her.

"Do you surf, Lizzie?"

"Yes, you?"

"Of course, how couldn't I, growing up round here? I used to think I'd be one of the competitors on the circuit once upon a time but alas, that wasn't meant to be. It amazing how expensive it can be if you don't have a sponsor."

"I can imagine."

"There's nothing I'd rather be doing though, even though the ocean isn't the faithful lover I wish she was." He touched his bent nose with a grin. "More like an abusive mistress really, she even ruined my chance for a modelling career."

Lizzie thought the lack of symmetry to Wickham's nose in no way detracted from his looks but she held the thought without voicing it, laughing instead. "I've had my fair share of close calls, though I never broken anything. A few brushes with sharks though."

Wickham shuddered. "The older I get the more frightened of them I become."

"I know, sometimes I get so spooked when I'm out, I can't get to shore fast enough, even if there's not a fin in sight. I don't agree with the shark cull though"

"Really? I with they'd go out and bait the lot of them."

Lizzie couldn't agree with his sentiment and passionately engaged him in friendly argument until she noticed they'd both finished their drinks. The barmaid was clearly disappointed when she came to the bar instead of Wickham this time, shooting glances over to their table, where her companion was checking his phone. When she returned, he changed the subject. "Have you seen Will Darcy since I last talked to you last?"

"Yes, just this morning in fact."

Wickham raised his eyebrow but didn't look up from his beer. "You know him pretty well then?"

"Not at all. I met him less than three weeks ago. It's a pleasure I could have done without really."

"It's a nice change to be in a place where no one's brown nosing the great Darcy."

Lizzie laughed. "No, you'll still find that round here, just not from me."

"It can't be escaped I 'spose. I should know. I grew up with it."

"You grew up with Darcy?" Lizzie was astonished that they were so connected.

"Yeah, my father was Pemberley's vineyard manager so I grew up on the estate." Wickham's reply was perfunctory, as if he didn't wish to elaborate. "Is he staying around here for much longer or will he leave with his friend after the tour's over?"

"I wouldn't think he'd stay, it's obvious that Bingley is the only thing that keeps him here. Are you trying to avoid him?"

"Ha! No, I'd say it's the opposite. We don't have anything to do with each other anymore, for reasons which at least I've no reason to avoid him for, but he knows if I spend to long in his company, he's liable to end up with a broken nose. But his father was a great man, almost like a father to me after my own dad died when I was 14, so I guess you could call that a reason not to punch his face in."

Lizzie was surprised at his vehemence but it didn't shock her that she wasn't the only one who's dislike of Darcy made her feel violent. She tried to tease more information from him but Wickham merely smiled at her efforts. "I refuse to talk about him anymore. Tell me about you. I know you're studying, tell me more about that."

It wasn't difficult for Lizzie to give him a run down on her work, though at that very moment she found their previous topic of conversation far more engrossing. But his clear interest in her work was flattering and under his warm attention she found herself explaining the outline of her thesis, feeling quietly thrilled that he understood her passions in the area.

"That sounds amazing. I always wanted to work my way up to being a vintner. I studied viticulture at uni myself, along with business management. If it wasn't for Darcy, I might be managing a vineyard right now."

"Really?" Lizzie didn't even try to disguise her obvious diversion by his words.

"Oh yeah, it was always planned that I would take over the position at the Pemberley main estate when the old manager retired, but once Darcy's old man died and the winery was in his hands, that was never going to happen."

"But if it was part of his will, how could've the executors allowed it?"

"Well, Darcy was one of the executors himself so anything's possible, but really it was more of a deathbed promise than a bequest and Darcy was legally entitled to ignore it. Besides, I never completed my degree in management, as his father died before I could finish it."

"His dad was paying for your education?"

"Yep. I said that my father had worked for him, well, he died in an accident in his vineyard no less, so his Dad took it upon himself to raise me in his stead and paid for all my education until his death when I was 21."

"And Darcy wouldn't continue to do so?" Lizzie felt outraged on Wickham's behalf.

"Apparently not."

"But surely you could have continued in spite of not having Darcy's support?"

"I tried but it was impossible to support myself and finish my education. Darcy's very well connected at the university and industry as you can probably imagine, so it was made sure that I got the shittiest placements under the most difficult of terms. So here I am, stuck on the grape picking circuit."

"Why does he hate you so much?"

"Fuck knows. I guess I told him what I thought of him often enough, I'm not one of his brown nosers. He doesn't really like it if you don't kiss his arse."

Lizzie hadn't noticed him liking being sucked up to anymore than he liked anything else but she nodded her head thoughtfully. "I can't believe he got away with that, surely the other executors would've at least supported you to finish your study?"

"I guess I could've fought harder, but I adored his father and I didn't want to drag his name through the courts. Besides, Darcy hated me so much that no matter how much I wanted the job at Pemberley, I couldn't put up with that everyday. I confess, when it came down to it, I just wanted to put it all behind me."

Lizzie blew out her breath. "I can understand that feeling. But you should've been compensated."

"Yeah well, I revert to my first statement. And his father loved me too. I suppose Darcy was jealous of it. He always tried to show me up when we were kids. The first to point the finger to blame me when we got into trouble."

Lizzie shook her head. "I disliked him immediately but I never guessed he could be so unjust in how he's treated you." She paused for a moment, thinking back on her conversations with Darcy the evening before. "He did say to me that his character was resentful. I guess he was exposing himself as more of an arsehole than I realised."

"You'll have no disagreement with that from me." Wickham smiled at her, spreading out his fingers out beside hers. "But seriously, Lizzie, I'm not one to live in the past. I get by, in spite of Darcy."

Lizzie looked up at Wickham, meeting his eyes with a return smile. She could have answered that it was obvious that Darcy would be jealous of the charm and charisma that Wickham possessed, but she held her tongue. Still, she felt her cheeks warming as she finally replied. "I'm appalled that you were treated like that. That he could do that to someone he grew up with...it's just...just...words fail me at how unfair it is."

"I know. My father gave up his dreams of owning his own vineyard to work for Darcy's father. He gave him the best years of his life. But he was the kind of man you would do that for. I think the most unfair outcome is that the old man didn't have the son he deserved."

"You're very generous. I don't think I could be so magnanimous." She paused considering for a moment. "Darcy's so full of his own consequence, it makes me wonder how he could lower himself to behave in such a petty way, to so materially damage you."

"It's because I didn't matter. Darcy's well aware of his obligations to others but only if he wants something in return. He's always very careful to maintain his status. If he donates to charity, then you can be sure the media will be informed so everyone can marvel at his generosity."

"I did think him capricious. You've only proven that to me without doubt."

"If you're lucky enough to be his friend or family, then you can be sure to be looked after."

"I don't think I like Darcy's method of looking after his friends. I've seen it with my own eyes. What's his sister like?"

Wickham rolled his eyes comically. "Just like her brother, as arrogant as they come. As a kid, she was a sweetheart and I spent a lot of time with her but Darcy, of course, poisoned her against me. I haven't seen her for a long time but I've heard Darcy is hyper-protective and controls her every movement. He refuses to let her leave Pemberley to go to a decent school."

"I thought that was probably the case." Lizzie shook her head wonderingly. "I don't understand how he can be such good friends with Charles Bingley. He's a lovely guy, though he lets Darcy walk all over him. Do you know him as well?"

"Not at all."

"If you don't know him, you can bet he doesn't know what Darcy did to you."

"I can't imagine that information's something that Darcy really wants to get around."

"No, I wouldn't think so. Aren't you just a little tempted to go public with it?"

"Yes, but it's only Darcy that I want to revenge myself on, not the whole family. Besides, can you imagine the tabloid frenzy I'd have to endure? No, thank you. Since Gina Rinehart's son went off the market, he's the local gossip column's favourite son."

Lizzie blinked at his description of Darcy. It made sense that his wealth and his looks would make him a media darling but it hadn't struck her that this was something Darcy would seek out.

Wickham swallowed the last of his pint and checked his phone, which had been constantly flashing with message alerts. "Lizzie, I wish I could stay and take you out for dinner but I have to go see a man about a dog. I'm sorry to cut this short."

Lizzie felt a little on her back foot by the abrupt ending to their date. "That's ok, I should get home and do some reading anyway. The past few days have put me well behind on my research."

Wickham waited while she collected her things before walking her out of the pub to the car park, placing his hand on her arm before she could unlock her vehicle. "Do you want to come out surfing with me on Friday morning? I'd really like to see you again soon."

"I'd love to, I haven't been out on my board in ages but I can't, I have to work, damn it. I could go Saturday instead though?"

"Saturday it is." Wickham stood for a moment looking down at her, his eyes bright. Lizzie's breath caught, thinking he was about to kiss her but instead his mouth just twisted up into a grin. "I'll be seeing you later then, Lizzie Bennet."

Lizzie's own lips curled in response. "Bye, George. I appreciate you telling me what you did earlier. I must've been hard to share. Thanks for trusting me."

He twinkled at her, his grin matching hers. "It wasn't hard to tell you, Lizzie. I don't think it would be hard to tell you anything. Thanks for listening to me. I'm sorry if I bored you to death but God knows I've got few enough people to talk to about things like this."

The smile on Lizzie's face remained long after he had dropped out of sight of the rear vision mirror, waving to her as she pulled away. She drove home with her thoughts full of his engaging smile and quick wit. It was slightly disappointing that he hadn't kissed her but it was their first date, if she could even call it such. Perhaps he only looked at her as a friend but surely it was impossible to ignore the warm spark of interest in his eyes.

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><p><em><strong>A long, plotful chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you did. Or if you didn't! Any feedback is always welcome. Thanks for the r's, f's and f's.<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Sorry about the delay, festivities and all that. The next chapter won't be so tardy. Thanks for the R's, F's and F's. And Happy New Year!_**

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><p>Lizzie should have known better than to disclose any details of her social engagements, romantic or otherwise, to any of her family members besides Jane. The moment that Wickham's panel van pulled up her to the house in the early morning to pick her up for their surfing trip, both Lydia and Kitty appeared, surfboards and wetsuits at the ready. There was no time to intervene before Wickham rolled down his window and encompassed them all with his lazy smile. "Well, isn't this my lucky day. The company of not one, but three beautiful ladies."<p>

Lydia tittered a greeting as Lizzie swallowed the snide reply on her lips, half-heartedly returning Wickham's smile instead. She waited a moment for him to say that there was no room in the car for them all but instead he got out of the car to shift things around in the back to fit in the extra gear.

Rather than assist loading the car, Lydia slipped into the passenger door to claim the middle spot on the bench seat, giving Lizzie a smirk. "I'm the skinniest so it's best that I sit here. Kitty can sit in the back."

Lizzie felt her irritation swell and scowled back at her sister but, rather than expose the more fractured elements of their relationship to Wickham, she slid into the seat next her without comment. Kitty, by turn, wasn't so gracious; her muffled complaints from the back of the van didn't cease until they were halfway to Gracetown.

All Lizzie's pleasant anticipation for the date was gone. Instead she couldn't wait get Lydia and Kitty alone, to rip into them for gate crashing her time with Wickham. It didn't help that Wickham himself hadn't intervened but she could give him the credit for at least acting out of politeness. She seethed in silence for the drive, getting more and more cranky as she listened to Wickham and Lydia's trite conversation about mutual friends. They certainly shared more acquaintances than she did with either of them.

"So South Point, Lizzie? Or do you want to check out Lefties first"

Lydia rolled her eyes and answered before Lizzie could respond. "North Point is ripping this morning. Don't tell me you're too much of a pussy for it?"

Wickham let out a chuckle as he caught Lizzie's eye. "I'm game, if you are."

"Besides, we can just watch you from the beach if the swell's too big. Right, Lizzie?"

Lizzie looked over the bay. The swell was clean and nor so big that it would be a struggle to paddle out. Furthermore, the offshore wind hadn't swung around making south point a sloppy mess. Lizzie knew she was the strongest surfer amongst her sisters, besides Jane, and Lydia and Kitty would most likely be content with displaying themselves on the beach and watching the eye candy rather than braving the water. "I'm game. Conditions are pretty perfect for me."

Wickham's grin grew wider. "That's the girl."

As they swung into the car park, Lizzie began to regret her decision and ot because of the size of the swell. A familiar black four-wheel drive was already ensconced in one of the best shady spots. Lizzie knew from Jane that Bingley didn't have a heat that day, so with any luck it would just be him out training without the rest of his entourage. She squinted her eyes over the break to see if she could recognise any of the distant figures and immediately found Charlie's blonde head and the dark one belonging to his best friend close by.

As she watched, Darcy caught a wave and though she thought his board was a bit big for the conditions, his control was all class. The water broke over him in a perfect barrel, enveloping him for an extended moment before he pulled up from the close out. Lizzie could see his face break into a delighted smile, his exhilaration palpable.

"Lizzie, are you sure you're up for this? We can go check out the conditions at Lefties if you think it's too big."

Even though Lizzie had been tempted to suggest the same thing, his words made her resolve not to let Darcy intimidate her. She didn't know whether Wickham's words were due to his desire to avoid Darcy or if he was truly concerned for her ability to manage the break. "I grew up on the breaks around here and I'll know when it's too big for me. I can always go out the back if I get tired. Besides," she gave him a knowing smile, "the only sharks out there on a day like today are the land dwelling kind and I think you and I can handle them."

Despite the chill in the morning air, Kitty and Lydia had stripped to their bikinis and were splashing at each other in the shallows before Lizzie had her wetsuit half on. She pondered whether to tell her sisters not to follow her out, but ultimately decided that any inference from her that they couldn't handle the conditions would more encourage them than anything. She zipped up her wetsuit and grabbed her board, following Wickham into the water without saying a word to either of them.

The break was pretty crowded but Lizzie managed to catch a few satisfying waves before the wind conditions began to change and the water began getting choppy. She waited for the set to pass and paddled beyond the reef to take a rest. The warmth of the sun and the gentle rock of the waves pulled her into such a relaxed reverie that when a voice called her name she nearly tumbled into water when she tried to sit up.

"So you surf too, Lizzie. I didn't know."

Darcy was paddling toward her, his powerful shoulders swiftly crossing the water between them until he pulled up beside her. She suppressed the immediately contrary response that came to mind; as much as she wanted to tell him that she only hung out with her board at the beach for the cool factor, it was a little hard to sell when she was floating 50 metres off the coast. No other response was at hand so she just raised her eyebrow. "As you see."

"That was a pretty sweet wave you took back there, you must have thought about going pro? You look good enough."

"I could ask you the same question."

He shook his head, giving her an easy smile. "No time for that."

"But somehow I do have time?"

"I only asked if you'd thought about it."

"I can honestly say, I've never thought about going pro." The words were factually untrue, but Lizzie didn't think what she had decided at ten years old really counted. "And if you think I'm ok then you should see Jane. She's far better than me."

"I've seen her, she'd technically awesome but you…you have more style. You were fearless out there."

It hadn't been Darcy that Lizzie had hoped to impress with her form on a surfboard but she couldn't help but feel flattered at Darcy's words and the way his dark eyes crinkled at her so warmly. She dropped her gaze, wondering why her cheeks felt so hot. "I know this break like the back of my hand. My dad took me out here for the first time on my 13th birthday, when I got my first short board, but I've been watching people surf here since I was in nappies."

His eyes followed hers to survey his board. "I stupidly didn't bring all my boards with me. This bloody thing responds like a plank of wood out there."

"You seemed to be doing ok." Darcy had been doing more than ok but Lizzie didn't feel like heaping superlatives on his surfing prowess.

As she spoke, Wickham appeared over the crest of the wave before them. He was grinning and waving but as he saw who she was with, his face stilled and he dropped back to his board out of sight behind the swell. Lizzie looked back to Darcy to read his response but he was already paddling away from her. Lizzie could only see his back as his board moved toward the beach. Given the story Wickham had told her, she hadn't expected any meeting between the two men to go particularly well. But Darcy's lack of civility could only make Lizzie think he was embarrassed by what had transpired between Wickham and he. The thought preoccupied her as she paddled back to shore, letting the drift of the waves carry her to the sand.

She didn't have an opportunity to discuss Darcy's behaviour with Wickham; when Lizzie had suggested going for a walk together after he dropped she and her sisters off, he had smiled regretfully, speaking of a prior engagement and left Lizzie with her sisters at their front door. He did, however, manage to arrange a date to see a movie with her later that week, adding in her ear, while Lydia and Kitty were distracted with their gear, that it would be nice to see her alone.

His words were enough to warm her feelings toward him, which had distinctly cooled by the confusingly inconsistent attitude he had shown towards her in the times they had spent together. But even alone, their date on the following Wednesday wasn't anything special. Most of their conversation consisted of Lizzie complaining about having to go to the Bingley party. "Are you going to go? I'm trying to find any possible reason to get out of it."

"I haven't exactly got an invitation."

"That won't matter. You could come with me."

"I'd really like to go with you, Lizzie, but I'll have to try and see you there. I've got a couple of other things going on that day."

It was becoming increasingly difficult to pin Wickham down and Lizzie was starting to wonder whether she even wanted to. When she had his full attention, his charm could make her swoon but, despite his confidences, she couldn't help but feel that she wasn't one of his first priorities. It made her start to wonder how much Wickham's difficult childhood had messed him up, giving him some serious trust issues. Still, he had kissed her goodbye by the car at the end of the evening, even if he had cut their meal short again after another urgent text message from a friend. The kiss had been nice enough, though nothing that set her stomach fluttering.

Jane's romance, in distinct contrast to her own non-version, had been getting warmer by degrees. There had been more than one night in the final week of the pro tour competition that her sister hadn't returned home at all. By the dreamy attitude her sister displayed when Lizzie had finally managed to catch up with her, the increase in intimacy in her relationship with Bingley had been a highly satisfactory.

"He's perfect, Lizzie. I never thought I'd meet anyone like him. He told me he wants to buy a house around here. He even asked me to help him look."

Lizzie smiled at Jane's gush of words. She couldn't help but enjoy seeing her usually reserved sister in such a state of delight. "You have to check there's enough cupboard space for linens. And adequate rooms for at least 6 children, it wouldn't do for Bingley's children to have to share a room, you know."

Jane blushed. "Lizzie! You sound exactly like Mum when I told her. It's not like he's asked me to move in with him or anything."

"What are you doing telling Mum things like that, you know it'll only encourage her. My teasing, at least, won't be heard outside these four walls."

Jane looked stricken and Lizzie immediately regretted her words, though she still thought her sister should have learnt more restraint with over-sharing personal information with their parents. "God, I know. I knew I shouldn't have as soon as the words left my mouth, but I just couldn't help it. You were out and I had to tell someone."

"I'm sure it's ok. Who's Mum going to tell that matters?" Their mother's social circle was small and viciously interested in gossip but most information was generally just dissected between them.

"That's just it. Bingley invited the whole family to his party this weekend. Mum and Dad are definitely coming."

"Oh." Lizzie failed to find any more reassuring words for Jane at all. "Is it too late to say I'm washing my hair that night?"

"Yes, you cow. You're not abandoning me in this. In fact I'm going to commandeer your time to help me set up there tomorrow." Her tone grew more conciliatory. "Come on, Lizzie, I know you're not working and it's only us plus the Bingley's and Darcy setting it up. We only have wait staff on. And as much as I like Caroline, she'll be useless when it comes to setting up an event."

"Just park her next to the champagne fountain to keep her out of the way. It's ridiculous, Janey, surely Bingley has enough cash to hire some more staff?"

"Well, yes, there's some but I stupidly told him that we could handle most of it and, Lizbat, it has to be perfect. Please come and help me, I need you."

Of course there was no way that Jane's pleading looks could fail to win her sister over so, the following day, Lizzie found herself tasked with the job of decorating Bingley's garden. To make the situation even more uncomfortable, Darcy had been assigned her assistant, or rather she his, as his greater height was required to position the lanterns Jane had designated for the trees surrounding the property.

They hadn't yet said a word to each other, engrossed in their own arrangements of candles and garden lights but once Lizzie had exhausted her supply of decorative objects she was forced to go and assist Darcy with the placement of the lights in the trees. He barely acknowledged her greeting, only grunting at her when she passed him a lantern to save him climbing down. She gave him at least a minute to make some other response before she had to make some kind of comment. "The lanterns will look very pretty against the sunset."

Lizzie waited another moment for a response but he remained mute. "It's your turn to say something, Darcy. Perhaps you could say how well they'll light the trees? Or is that lantern so diverting you can't hold up an end of a conversation?"

Darcy responded from his position on the ladder with a chuckle. "I am pretty distracted by this right now, so whatever you think I should say, imagine I've said."

"I guess I can do that. I'll try and keep it civil." Lizzie looked up at Darcy's bemused face and deepened her voice. 'Lizzie, don't you think up lighting is so much more effective for parties than down lighting?' Why, yes, Darcy, I always prefer it at my dos. No one wants a light shining in their face." Darcy climbed down as she spoke, flashing her an odd smile before moving the ladder to the next branch and taking the lantern Lizzie passed to him. "There, now we don't have to speak again at all, at least for a while. Perhaps later I can comment on the variety of plants there are in the garden and then you can tell me how beautiful the view looks from up there on the ladder."

The branches hid Darcy's expression but his words were amused. "Do you usually insist on conversation while you work?"

"Not really, I'd usually hope that insistence wasn't necessary. But sometimes the effort at conversation is harder than the work itself and the resulting silence can make even the most extroverted people uncomfortable. In such cases, I find it helpful to offer meaningless commentary, to delay the inevitable awkwardness for as long as possible."

"And this is for your benefit or mine?"

"Both. You see, if we look too sullen, Caroline will come over and make it even worse." Lizzie shook out the next lantern and passed it to his reaching hand. "I'm beginning to be sure that there's great deal of similarity in our attitudes toward life. We're both entirely too self absorbed and antisocial to really give a toss what other people think."

Darcy focused on the securing the next rope, his reply dry. "I can't imagine that's a true reflection of your own character. I won't comment on its similarities to mine, though I think your mind is made up."

Lizzie laughed despite herself. "Meaningless commentary, remember, Darcy. I wouldn't trust anything I'm saying."

Darcy shot a wry look at her from his high post but didn't reply. The conversation lapsed again and Lizzie looked around the property at the various activities being undertaken. A floor had been laid on the lawn in front of a DJ booth, where Caroline was fussing, and Jane and Bingley had emerged onto the deck and were setting up a comprehensive bar. At least Jane was trying to. Bingley seemed to be spending more of his time distracting her from it, trying to sneak his arms around her waist while she laughingly slapped him away.

"Do you go surfing often? You look as though you've spent a lot of time on the water."

Darcy's question drew her attention back to him and she met his eyes directly. "Not as much as I used to. The other day was my first time out in ages. In fact, when I saw you I was with someone who claims to be an old acquaintance of yours."

The courage to press the issue further deserted Lizzie and she took a deep breath to muster herself. Darcy's face lost its open expression, taking on a bitter twist as he fidgeted with the knot securing the lantern he was hanging. After an uncomfortable pause, he looked down at her again. "George Wickham knows a lot of people. He'll always find new friends to replace the ones he loses."

"Clearly you are one of those he's lost. And in ways that damage his life far more than could be caused by just losing a friendship."

Darcy climbed down the ladder but instead of confronting her over her provocative speech, he just moved to the next tree and climbed up to hang the next lantern. Lizzie followed him with the remaining few lights and though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was having trouble digesting her words. She was about to probe further when Mr Lucas rounded the side of the house, his coarse voice booming across the lawn.

"Why here's Lizzie and Darcy, and doing a bloody good job by the looks of it. I reckon that's some of the best decor for a party I've seen around here. I must tell the missus to find some of them lanterns for our next do. You two have the knack of it, eh Lizzie?"

Mr Lucas looked up to the deck at Bingley and Jane, continuing before Lizzie could respond to the nudge he gave her. "Reckon they'd be bloody perfect for a wedding too. You'll probably be wanting to keep these by, Darce, by the looks of it you'll be needing 'em again soon enough." He gave Lizzie another elbow, smiling at her bewildered face. "I'll be off then, just came by to drop off more grog for Bingley, can never have enough round here. Can you let him know I came through? I don't want to interrupt the love birds." Mr Lucas cocked his eyebrow as he gave Lizzie a knowing look. "Looks like I'm interrupting something here as well. You can stop giving me daggers, Lizzie. I know where I'm not wanted. I'll see you all later on."

Neither Lizzie nor Darcy said anything in reply to Mr Lucas as he departed. Lizzie internally cringed at his bombastic manner but what Darcy felt she couldn't ascertain. His expression was guarded as he looked up at Bingley and Jane canoodling on the deck. "I think we're done here. I can finish the last of these. Do you want to go and help out up there, otherwise we'll never get everything sorted before tonight."


End file.
